


Happily

by fedexlarry



Category: Harry Style - Fandom, Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, larry stylinson - Freeform, one direction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-18 22:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 27,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1444741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fedexlarry/pseuds/fedexlarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis Tomlinson's world (the popular and egotistic footie jock) and Marcel Styles' world (the nerd who no one cares about) somehow collide. There might be love and there might be tragedy but for sure there are some feelings that need to be cleared up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One: Nerds and Footies

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I'm trying a new writing style- POV's. The beginning of the story will have both Louis and Harry- or Marcel's- POV. As the story goes on, you will notice is only being in Louis' POV. Leading off of that,  
> 1) This is a Larcel/Loucel fic- Louis and Marcel instead of Harry.  
> 2) I am very well aware of the fact that Harry/Marcel and Louis are different, but in the sake of this being an AU already, I am making them both in the same grade/class/age.  
> 3)Chapters will not all be the same length, just by main topic. I hope you all I'd love to hear your thoughts!

“Marce love, don’t forget your inhaler! I just got it refilled,” mum called to me from the kitchen. “Yes mum, I will!” I grabbed my inhaler, shoved it into my pocket- as I often need to use it- and head out the door for my walk to school.  
Yes, I know, I’m a sixteen year old independent man, but a car is just too stressful for me. Or so my mum thinks. I remember about 6 months ago, she had allowed me to pull out of the driveway and take a ride around the neighbourhood with her to guide me from the passenger seat. Let’s just say… things went a bit… breathy.  
I pulled out of the driveway grinning from one dimple to another. “Alright Marce, look behind you!” Mum practically squealed in excitement. I looked to the back and say a row of bikers stroll by, quick as a bee. Gasping, I reached for my inhaler and had a panic attack- later noticing I hadn’t even had my foot on the gas pedal.

Ever since then mum has told me I need to wait for a car. And that I have to keep in extra inhaler in her car just in case some bikers decide to whiz by. 

Anyway, I grabbed my backpack and walked out the door. It didn’t matter actually- the walk to school was about five minutes tops. I walked through the neighbourhood which consisted of the same two story houses as mine, that is, until I reached the Footies. The Footies is the neighbourhood on the outer edge of the community, closer to the school. All the football players from our high school live in the Footies, so they can be closer to field. The houses are what really separates the Footies from the normal houses though; wide two story houses with neat yards and lighted driveways. To be honest, they were not mansions, just larger and more sophisticated homes than the others. 

I walked past the Footies and looked straight towards school, which was about ten meters away from me. Before approaching the steps, I glanced at the football field where the popular boys were playing. There was Zayn Malik, Liam Payne, Niall Horan, Stan something-or-the-other, Nick Grimshaw, and David Devine. I don’t remember the names of the others. I hardly had an ease of cheese remembering the other lads names except one. Louis William Tomlinson.

No, I do not stalk him like in the films or anything, I simply fancy him. I’m openly gay but no one except my mum knows. Why? Well I have no friends. No one really notices me, which is great. Means I don’t get bullied. 

I sigh and hobble up the stairs and take a quick breath through my inhaler before walking through the doors. I loved school because I got to get the best of education; my absolute favourite thing, and I got to take electives like styling and music- which if I may add, Louis Tomlinson also takes.  
\+ + +

I step into my favourite class, music. Just the creativity that I can muster up is quite replenishing! I walked to the back of the room where my seat was and looked around. Girls were flirting with guys, and guys were flirting with girls. Not everyone of course, but I wonder sometimes, how do you flirt? But it doesn’t matter; no one knows who I am anyway. I turn my head to the direction of Louis Tomlinson and freeze. He is looking at me. I repeat, Louis William Tomlinson is looking at me. He knows I sit here, he knows who I am he-

He laughs suddenly and I turn around. Niall is writing something on the window. Of course. Louis wasn’t looking at me, he was looking at Niall. He looked past me. I silently cursed myself- of course, not using bad words- and sighed.  
‘Holy twix Marcel. You’re so stupid!’

Just then, Mrs. Sivan walked in and everyone became quiet. There goes my day, dragging on.  
\+ + +

I was walking home from school pretty content. No one had noticed me so no one talked to me, thus, no one had made fun of me. My mum doesn’t know I don’t have friends. I told her I have two friends, Jordan and Eleanor, which I don’t. Mum is very smart, but she never realized that Jordan and Eleanor were my distance cousins and that I use their names even though I don’t have friends. It’s quite humourous to me anyway.

I passed by the Footies and rolled my eyes. Everyone had gathered up in Louis’ house it seemed. They were all in the yard when I heard my name. Well, not exactly my name at first but it was me they were talking about. I hid behind a bush to listen.  
“Louis, truth or dare mate?”  
“Truth.”  
“Okay. Who’s that nerd kid? Mar, Marlene, Martle, Marcin, Marvin?”  
“I don’t remember. I think it’s Marcel.”

I gasped. They mentioned my name! They noticed me, they noticed me, the Footies had noticed me! No, Louis was the one who knew my name! They knew I existed!  
I moved a little closer into the bush to listen to Louis’ friend continue.

“Marcel! Yeah that’s the one. I dare you to dare you to beat up Marcel tomorrow.”  
Louis scoffed and rolled his eyes. “That dork? The idiot. Anyway, I said truth you dolt.”  
Louis friend laughed. I think it was Stan but I’m not sure. Stan was dumber than all the others. “Oh, oops right. I hoped you’d picked dare though.”

 

My heart dropped to my feet. The boy who I fancied, who I thought didn’t know I existed, did know. Now him and his friends were discussing beating me up. Maybe I’ll just stay out of the way as usual. That shouldn’t hurt right?

I quickly jumped from the bush and sprinted him, taking a few pumps of my inhaler. It was odd though, I still fancied Louis. His porcelain blue eyes and feathery chestnut hair. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I’m an idiot, it doesn’t make a difference. I’m not going to get anyone so I might as well dream. 

I walked through the door and saw on note on the kitchen counter that read:

I’m working late tonight. I talked to Gemma on the phone, she says hello. See you tomorrow, love you!  
P.S There’s a taco in the fridge from Chipotle.  
X Mum

I sighed and headed upstairs. Much too exhausted to eat anything, I went to bed. I wished silently, that I remained unnoticed.  
\+ + +

I woke up the next day and saw that mum had to leave for work early. This actually began to happen a lot, so I didn’t mind. I walked to school and entered the music room when Mrs. Sivan had announced that there was a project we had to do.  
“Class, this project is 80% of your music grade for this senior year. It is also about 40% of your English grade to see how you analyze real-world comprehension and world-to-text situations.”  
That earned a cloud of groans from the class. I smiled slightly. I loved this class.

“I have partnered you up with each other. You will have to create a song that means a lot to you, relating to you at the exact moment of your life, when you are writing the song. No past, no future, just present. The song has to be appropriate and use at least one musical instrument for extra credit! Okay, here are the partners.”

I sat frozen because this assignment seemed very fun, but the partners were not. I had never worked with someone before and I was hoping not to in the future. I took a puff of my inhaler and looked up as Mrs. Sivan began reading the names.

“Niall Horan and Stan Lucas.”  
So that was Stan’s last name.

“Zayn Malik and Perrie Edwards.”  
“Liam Payne and Sophie Stevens.”

And she rattled of a few other names until she called mine- the last.  
“This of course means, that the final partner pairing are Marcel Styles and Louis Tomlinson!” She smiled and set her notes down and dismissed the class. I sat paralyzed. I needed my inhaler but I was so shocked that I didn’t reach for it. My eyes trailed to Louis walking out the door. He paused, looked at me and gave me a disgusted look.  
Oh no.


	2. Chapter Two: Oops And Hi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcel is just the quiet nerd that no one notices. Wasting time on him isn't worth it... Or is it? Louis Tomlinson is the best player on the high school football (soccer, in America) team. He's part of the Footies; rich, jocks who play football. He's high spirited and cheeky, but definitely has a thing for judging people. When a music project calls for partners, Marcel is noticed and Louis is beside himself. It'll just be a quick project like every other right?  
> False.  
> Feelings arise and flames will flicker. After an incident in 7th grade, Marcel never cared for friends. Just studies and family. But as he got older, he longed for friends more and more. He felt the need to love and be loved. Maybe even someone who was a bit more than a friend. That friend just may be Louis William Tomlinson. Sparks might fly or the opposite could occur; things could go very, very wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, POV's will STILL be in BOTH Louis' and Marcel's.

Marcel’s POV

I kept my head down and walked through the door. Maybe I didn’t like being noticed at all. Maybe my science textbook being my best friend wasn’t that bad of an idea. I’d rather not be noticed than get bullied to be honest. I never actually had been bullied before, only once in elementary school. It’s a bit of a personal thing… Definitely not something the family ever speaks about. Ever.

I was about to walk to my next class when something knicked my foot and I tripped. Laughter was buzzing around me as I looked up, clearly blushing. “Oh look! My nerd partner can change colours!” Louis snickered and stared at me. I quietly got up and ran to my next class, tears dripping down my face. I never meant to be so sensitive but… I’m a tad self-conscious for reasons.

The rest of the day was fine, no one bothered me. I went home and finished my homework quickly so I could relax in my bedroom and watch Harry Potter. “Hmmm… Which one?” I asked myself giggling. I found the Sorcerers Stone- which was my favourite film even though the ending with Voldemorts face scares me to this day- and popped it into the DVD Player. I hopped into my bed and sang out loud as I waited for the film to begin, “it’s leviosa not leviosar!”  
“Oh Hermione,” I sighed, “you and I would be best friends… I wonder what it’s like to have real, good friends.”

And with that, the film began and I snuggled up with my dozens of friends that I didn’t have.  
Louis’ POV:

“Nice going you twat.” Liam scowled at me once Marcel ran away, crying. Him, Zayn, and Niall knew I was gay, and them only. Otherwise I was closet gay. They also knew a had the smallest crush on Marcel because I thought he was cute, all in all. “What?” I shrugged. “You idiot!” Zayn slapped my arm. “He’s your little crush and you made him cry? You should be happy you have a partnership with him! You bloody scared him away.” I looked around and saw that the crowd had dispersed, and we were in our own world. “Zayn shut up! Any louder and I swear…” Zayn just huffed and walked away. I turned to Niall who was standing alone. Liam must have left.  
“I’m not in love with him. I just think he’s the slightest bit cute. I’m a footie mate, I’m supposedly straight. And I’m not supposed to go for nerds anyway.”  
Niall winked at me. “A little spark starts a flame Lou. And besides, there’s no such thing as not supposed to. You can love anyone if you want. So what if people say things?”

I stared after the little Irish boy mumbling, “I don’t love him,” as he walked away and wondered what I did to deserve a friend like him. Everyone thinks the popular people- us, who are apparently called The Footies- are mean and rude, but we aren’t exactly. Sometimes we’ll get out our guy gossip outside of school, but we’ll limit our bullying. Liam is the mature one, Zayn is the protective cool guy, and Niall is the free-spirited guy. Everyone loves Niall. You have Stan and Nick who are absolutely stupid. Well, Nick is more devious than anything. I don’t trust that boy.

\+ +  
After school I hopped in my car and drove to my house- which was only a minute away. Tomorrow I would tell Marcel that we would have to work on the project. I honestly wasn’t looking forward to it. I imagined myself when I was older with some hot guy who played football as well and did the gym every day… Marcel is just too… Nerd. Sure he’s cute as a button but not I-am-ready-to-click-with-this-guy.

At home I looked out the window as I slipped my shirt off. I don’t know why, but I find it fun looking at the nothingness of the outside. Yeah, yeah, I’m actually a softy but you know what? No one has to know. I kept staring until I saw-  
Wait. Is that Marcel walking? How come I never noticed him before? He actually looked really cute-  
Wait, what? Louis stop he’s a nerd.  
Disgusted with myself, I looked away and hopped onto my bed, flicking on the TV.  
Marcel’s POV:

I woke up to a very dapper morning. The savory smell of bacon and hashbrowns had me running downstairs. “Mum I smell-”  
“Hey little bro!” my sister Gemma smiled as she tossed some strips of bacon onto a plate. She’s been learning to cook a bit from me, but mostly from mum. Let me tell you, she’s been extraordinary so far.  
“Gemma,” I groaned, “this smells so good!” She chuckled.  
“Well you’re gonna have to wait and taste it first.”  
“What? Why do I have to wait?”  
“Because.”  
“Because what?” I rolled my eyes at her. She smirked at me.  
“Because I want to finish cooking so we can take a bite at the same time!”  
“but-”  
“No buts. Shut up and sit tight, I’m almost done Marcel.” She nudged me and turned to the almost-done strips of bacon. I shuffled to the breakfast bar and sat down muttering under my breath on how I was hungry. She sat down a few minutes later and handed me a plate with bacon, hashbrowns and dollop of ketchup because really; who doesn’t love ketchup on everything? I took a bite and BAM.  
I felt as if everything had exploded, like all fireworks of different colours were cracking and bursting like in the film Madagascar. “Gemma this is amazing! How come you just started and I can’t cook like that?” She took a bite and her eyes widened. “Oh my gosh Marcel this tastes really good! I did an amazing job!” We both squealed in delight as we ate and chatted about every and anything; it was great, I loved talking to Gemma. Well, it was great until we had an awkward conversation about my music project.

“So Marce, how’s school? I heard you telling mum you have a partnered music project?”  
“Oh um. Yeah, yeah I do.” I mumbled. She looked at me hopefully- I knew what she wanted to know. “My partner is Louis, Gemma.”  
She gasped. “Marcel that is amazing!” I coughed awkwardly and looked down at my plate. “Little bro? Shouldn’t you be happy? I mean, he’s been your crush since the 8th grade and you’re in 12th now. Both of you are. So 4 years in love and you’re not happy he’s noticing you?”

If only you knew about the first time I heard him ‘notice’ me Gemma.

“Well Gemma, ever since he well realized I exist he’s been really mean to me. You know, him being a Footie and me being a nerd.” I sighed.  
Gemma looked over at me with a look of warning. “Marcel, you can’t let 7th grade happen again. Be careful okay? That… not acceptable.” I nodded. Right, seventh grade. That’s a whole other story that I will never forget not live to tell. Hopefully.  
I was about to say something when the doorbell rang. Gemma looked at me in confusion and stood up, grabbing our plates. “You go get it, I’ve got these,” she said.

\+ + +  
I walked over to the door and opened it. Couldn’t be mum or Robin, they were at work. -Oh! Did I add, Robin knows I’m gay too. Robin’s my stepdad. Honestly, he could care less. He told me “as long as your happy and you stay clean,” while chuckling.

I peered over and gawked and what I saw. There, on my front porch- I don’t know how he knew where me house was- stood Louis William Tomlinson. He was dashing as ever- sweatpants with a v-neck and a beanie. His tattoos showed perfectly on his arms and his chest tattoo was revealed, ‘it is what it is’, it read. Stop Marcel and talk, your gay is showing.  
“Um.” I stared at him nervously. Was he here to beat me up? No, he wouldn’t do that at my house would he? His blue eyes that shone like the sea pierced into my green ones. I was about to step onto the porch and close the door behind me when I tripped and fell. “Oops,” I muttered as I felt strong arms grab onto my weak ones. “Hi,” he mumbled.  
\+ + +  
Louis’ POV:

The poor lad tripped and fell. He looked kind of cute when he blushed. I caught him and let him go just as fast mumbling a ‘hi’ after his ‘oops.’ He straightened himself up as he shut the door behind him, fully stepping onto the porch. His green eyes were beautiful-  
Louis William Tomlinson STOP THIS YOU ARE NOT GAY FOR THIS NERD. 

“First things first,” he began, firm and strict, “how did you find my house?” I put on a –I-don’t-give-a-shit face and looked at him. “School directory, next?”  
“Next,” he asked, “why are you here? Because if you want to beat me up my house would not be the best place to do it.”  
I stared at him. Beat him up? Really? “No.” I said. “I’m not going to beat you up. I just wanted to get a schedule sorted out for our project early. I don’t want to spend too much time with you. I don’t think it’d be good for either of us.” A look of sorrow flashed across his face for a second. Jesus Louis you’re being a douche again.  
“Okay.” He pushed his glasses up to rub the bridge of his nose nervously. “How about- just so we can finish this off- everyday starting Monday, my place or yours?”  
“Starting Tuesday.” I corrected. “And we can do your place.” He nodded.  
At that moment, the door opened revealing a girl- she was really pretty, like, I’d be into her, if I wasn’t gay- who looked a tad older. “Marcy? Everything okay?” She asked,  
Marcy? Ohhh.  
“Marcel, I didn’t know your girlfriend was over sorry I um…” I stopped as he cringed. His nose crinkled and his dimples showed slightly and I found myself suppressing a giggle. Okay fine, the nerd was really cute and I admit it. But I can’t be open about this anymore. My feelings were getting from cute to crush and no- my reputation is at stake.  
The girl flicked Marcel in the head and snorted. “I’m not his girlfriend you dolt I’m his sister. And you are?” I relaxed a bit and outstretched my hand. “Louis, Louis Tomlinson.” She gladly took it and shook it but let it go quickly, spinning on her heal. “Louis…” She muttered to herself while smirking to Marcel.  
And with that she went back inside closing the door behind her leaving a confused me, and a blushing Marcel. Adorable blushing Marcel shall I add.

“Sorry about that.” He whispered. I tilted me head, “why are you whispering?” Marcel beckoned to the door. It was still slightly open- just a crack and a laugh came loudly before it was slammed shut. Marcel sighed in embarrassment. Is it bad I wanted to just hug him? He soft little sweater vests and his too-clean glasses with his dimples when he smiled- which I’ve only seen a couple times since he doesn’t smile much, I wonder why- all turned me on. But I didn’t want my reputation ruined and Marcel was straight. Well wasn’t he?

“Okay well now that that’s settled I’ve gotta head out.” I didn’t flash him a smile because god knows what would happen after that. I swear I would burst out in a laughing fit from what just happened. The porch creaked as I ran down, not bothering to acknowledge Marcel’s quite ‘goodbye’.  
\+ + +  
Marcel’s POV:

“Holy Twix Gemma what was that for?!” I shouted at her embarrassed. I wasn’t exactly shouting I suppose, more like whining. Gemma was bent over laughing, ignoring my question. “Twix Marcel? That’s the candy you choose? C’mon baby brother if you’re not going to swear choose a better word. How about Skittles, or Snickers? What about Cadbury or Crunch? Or how about Louis,” she wiggled her eyebrows mid-laugh at me while she said the last part. I blushed even harder-if that was possible- and plopped down on the couch groaning. “Gemma, oh my twix can you just stop?” She quieted down and stifled her laughter after a few minutes and sat down next to me. “Well…” She looked at me. I looked at her confused, “well what?”  
“WELL MARCEL HE’S CUTE!” She shrieked and burst out laughing again. I buried my face into the side of the couch and felt like popping, much like a balloon. Gemma has seen him but he’s not cute to me. He’s beautiful. His porcelain eyes with his perfect nose. His pink, thin lips and his cheekbones- wow those cheekbones. His eyes crinkling when he smiles. His every tattoo looks like a unique antique, like it’s important with more meaning that the world.

“Wow you even think his tattoos are hot?” Gemma looked at me red, still laughing. “What? You said those things out loud! You think he’s beautiful with his porcelain eyes and his thin pink lips!” She rolled her eyes in a mocking tone. I am definitely not getting out of this one. Well done Marcel.


	3. Chapter Three: Little White Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcel is just the quiet nerd that no one notices. Wasting time on him isn't worth it... Or is it? Louis Tomlinson is the best player on the high school football (soccer, in America) team. He's part of the Footies; rich, jocks who play football. He's high spirited and cheeky, but definitely has a thing for judging people. When a music project calls for partners, Marcel is noticed and Louis is beside himself. It'll just be a quick project like every other right?  
> False.  
> Feelings arise and flames will flicker. After an incident in 7th grade, Marcel never cared for friends. Just studies and family. But as he got older, he longed for friends more and more. He felt the need to love and be loved. Maybe even someone who was a bit more than a friend. That friend just may be Louis William Tomlinson. Sparks might fly or the opposite could occur; things could go very, very wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is still in both Louis and Marcel's POV.

Louis’ POV:

After the little visit with Marcel I decided I had to do something to help my small crush… disappear. I don’t want to do anything impulsive, besides, he’s not gay. That’s for sure. I sat in my room and watched TV, texted my friends, went out for a mini match with Niall and Liam, but nothing could get Marcel out of my head. Why? I had only began really paying attention to him a few days ago. Before I just used to think that he simply looked cute, sweater vest and all. 

I trudged out of the shower since today was Friday and I had to go to school, unfortunately. Shaking the thoughts out of my head, I threw some clothes on with a beanie and ran downstairs and out the door; forgetting breakfast. Again. 

At school I met with Zayn first before gathering up with Niall and Liam. “How did your visit go with Marcel?” Niall asked. He seemed pretty keen on getting us together which wasn’t going to happen. AT ALL.  
“Um.. Great yeah, we just, uhm, planned out some dates for the project you know?” I scratched my neck. I was supposed to go to apologize for my ‘rude behaviour’. Liam put me up to that.  
“You didn’t apologize did you Louis?” Liam stared down at me.  
“Yeah! I did!”  
“Really?”  
“Yes…”  
“Alright ready to prove it?”  
I glanced at him. “Prove it? Okay… Erm… How?”  
Liam looked at Niall and Zayn smirking. They must have planned this, no doubt. Why is it such a big deal anyway? Years of going here and we’ve never cared this much about anyone, why now? 

Just on cue, Marcel walked through the doors, slipping a glance at me and quickly turning away, blushing. God that blush. Oi, Louis stop, no. I was about to head to class when Liam grabbed my arm and dragged me towards Marcel who was sorting out his locker. Niall and Zayn followed. Liam tapped on Marcel’s shoulder and he whipped around and smiled. Smiled, well, smiled for about two seconds.

Marcel’s POV:

I began to sort out my locker when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Huh… I turned around to smile at the person but frowned just as fast as I smiled. Liam Payne, Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, and Louis Tomlinson. They were all standing in front of me, and I knew in that moment, I was definitely going to die. “Um… I-I…” I stuttered and gosh I stuttered I never stutter but it was Louis Tomlinson, the apparent one-sided love of my life that was going to beat me all the way to my gravestone. Liam smiled and began, “Marcel hi! It’s Marcel isn’t it?” I gulped and nodded quickly.  
“Y-yes…”  
“Calm down mate I’m just here to say that I’m glad that you and Louis here cleared things up…”  
I sighed of relief, I wasn’t going to die today. Still, I looked at him confused.  
“Cleared up the project dates?” Niall snickered from the back and I blushed. ‘Wrong answer Marcel’ my mind told me. This whole finally-being-noticed thing wasn’t in my favour. I honestly began to regret it happening, even though it wasn’t intended.  
Liam laughed and yanked Louis- who was slowly shrinking back- closer to the conversation.  
“No! You know, when Louis stopped by and apologized.” He smirked and I knew Louis had done something wrong. Apologized? To me? Was all I could process. I tried to choose my words carefully.  
“Right! Of course yes he did apologize. May I j-just be reminded what for?” I trailed off at the end as Liam frowned and turned to Louis, who was looking smaller than ever.

Right then and right there Liam took a-light- swing at Louis and spoke softly, “You idiot. You blittering idiot. You really are blind are you? We three can tell,” and walked away. I yelped a bit and ran over to help Louis. “I’m fine!” He said gruffly. Scared, I left and scurried to class. I checked my phone, which read, “7:56 am” and I knew it was going to be a long day. I was already exhausted from this morning’s events.

Louis’ POV:  
I was a bit surprised I have to admit. My face hurt. A lot. But I knew he punched me lightly compared to other times Liam’s hit people. Zayn followed Liam and Niall stood back, watching, as Marcel ran to me. Why the hell did he care so much? He was the cause of all these problems and now I’m… I’m pissed off. Whatever. “I’m fine,” I told him. He stepped back and a scared look crossed his face. He left without a word. I looked up at Niall who began to pull me up.

“Eh leprechaun, what did I do mate? Marcel is just a science partner why start all this drama? It’s pointless!” I brushed myself off as Niall put his hand on my shoulder. “Louis.. well… I’ll say this. Liam, Zayn and I have noticed Marcel around and he’s lonely. Even though he doesn’t have any friends he seems like he’s meant for you. You like him. It started out as ‘oh yeah he’s cute’ but now you know you like him. I think he likes you too. You both just seem to click but you’re a dick Louis. You’re a complete dick and you care too much about your reputation. I just feel you both would be together all too happily.”  
Niall smirked, continuing, “The way you blush when he walks by and when you get all jumpy when he’s around, even if it’s across the room. We’ve never seen you so nervous and happy and wrecked and whipped and EVERYTHING ever before Tommo. I’m serious. You just have to stop being a dick.”

And with that my best friend walked away, my mouth hanging open. Marcel wasn’t gay. Was he?  
“Oi Tommo!” Niall ran back quickly. “I found out through… sources… that he’s openly gay. He’s just not telling you. Must be nervous eh?” He winked and ran back towards class. Either way we were both late. 

“Thank you for joining us Mr. Horan… Mr. Tomlinson…” Mrs. Winston scowled. I sat down next to Niall and sighed. It was going to be a long day… 

Marcel’s POV:  
“I’m fine!”  
Louis got hit by his friend because of me. Sure it wasn’t that bad, and I’m sure it’s happened before. But me; because of me. I couldn’t help but wonder why. Was it something about the project? A dare maybe? I wasn’t sure but something didn’t seem right. Holding my tray I walked towards the tables in the cafeteria. I sat alone. Obviously. There was always that one person who never sat with anyone. It was like a job at school, a place to hold. The person holding that job was me.

I plopped down at the table and wondered why the Footies… well most of the Footies… had been so nice to me. It must be all a prank. A SICK prank. Fine! If it’s a stupid joke, I’ll play along. And right when they plan to hurt me, I’ll be ready to fight back. I nodded to myself contently and began at my salad. About a minute later I felt someone behind me. Turning around, I found none other than one of Louis’ friends; Niall. “Hi…” I said shyly. Niall looked at me and beamed. 

“Hi Marcel! Want to sit with us?” He nodded over to their table. Louis was staring at me and the moment I met his gaze, his eyes moved to the floor. Liam was glaring Louis and Zayn was looking in the other direction. Nick and Stan were conversing about something, not bothering about me. 

“Uh… no thanks.” I told Niall. I’m not an idiot.  
“C’mon Marcy!” I shook my head.  
“No. Uh, erm. Marcy?”  
Niall laughed. “Yeah. That’s my new name for you! Now let’s go. Pleeeaasseee!”  
The Irish boy grabbed my tray and walked over to his table. I rolled my eyes and followed. First time in years, it was, that I sat with people at lunch. 

Louis’ POV:  
Ugh idiot Niall is bringing Marcel to sit at our table. There’s no way Marcel would say yes- wait, did Niall just call him MARCY? I was gonna start calling him that! Wait no. Nevermind, stop it Tomlinson. Either way it doesn’t matter- WAIT IS MARCEL STYLES FOLLOWING NIALL TO SIT HERE OH NO.

Niall’s POV:  
Louis is such an idiot. I brought Marcel to our table to sit but there’s more. Now that I know Louis’ got thing I can have some fun until he admits it.  
“Marcel! Come sit next to me,” I smile and throw my arm around his shoulder and he tenses up. I glance at Louis and the only thing in his eyes is jealously. This is going to be fun. 

Louis’ POV:  
“Marcel! Come sit with me!” Niall set Marcel’s salad down next to him and slung his arm around Marcel. Marcel tensed for a bit and then relaxed, blushing. I’m the only one who’s supposed to make him blush like that! What is Niall playing at here?  
“So Marcel, what kind of food do you like?” Niall turned to face Marcel and he shrugged. “Well I like all kinds but mainly Italian and Nandos I guess.” Niall’s eyes lit up and he asked, “wanna go to Nando’s with me?” which was followed by me smirking at Marcel’s, “um I’m alright thank you.”  
During the whole period of lunch Niall kept flirting with Marcel (even though Niall is straight as hell) just to make me jealous and I realized that it worked. I kept clenching my fists underneath the table and I ended up gritting my teeth to keep from yelling out. I couldn’t deny it anymore, I was jealous. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore;  
I liked Marcel Styles.


	4. Chapter Four: Things That Change & Things That Don't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcel is just the quiet nerd that no one notices. Wasting time on him isn't worth it... Or is it? Louis Tomlinson is the best player on the high school football (soccer, in America) team. He's part of the Footies; rich, jocks who play football. He's high spirited and cheeky, but definitely has a thing for judging people. When a music project calls for partners, Marcel is noticed and Louis is beside himself. It'll just be a quick project like every other right?  
> False.  
> Feelings arise and flames will flicker. After an incident in 7th grade, Marcel never cared for friends. Just studies and family. But as he got older, he longed for friends more and more. He felt the need to love and be loved. Maybe even someone who was a bit more than a friend. That friend just may be Louis William Tomlinson. Sparks might fly or the opposite could occur; things could go very, very wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is still in both Louis and Marcel's POV. Louis' POV is beginning to extend.

Louis’ POV Con’td:  
Those four words were quite big for me. I hadn’t exactly gotten this serious in admiring someone where I got jealous all too easily and my whole life took a sharp turn. Not everything was going right, so I suspected the direction I was going would be left. These small little unexpected kinks here and there really could set things off. As Sherman Alexie had said; One play can change your whole momentum. 

Now, before you start thinking that my heart and mind both pulled me to the same point in time and emotion I was to say that I still cannot fathom the thought even, of risking my reputation for a someone I merely liked. I had a scholarship lined up for Manchester U, and I’m sure coming out as gay and having the boyfriend I’m imagining- cough , cough, Marcel- could most likely jeopardize everything. Who am I talking? I’m acting as if I could ask Marcel out and all of a sudden he would leap into my arms and try to get in my pants.

False.

Things don’t always go the Tomlinson way, and even though I could have any girl I want, a guy- Marcel mostly- would be entirely different. I sighed to myself as I walked down the halls and out the school doors heading to my car. Why did being a hormone-crazed teenager have to be this complicated? The emotional struggles in my life at the moment as a hormone dependent teenager consists of my heart longing for an emotional erection and how on earth do I please this need? Give the heart what it wants. Marcel. 

As this hit me like a thousand freight trains and quite possibly five airplanes, twenty trucks, and thirty-seven nuclear missiles I realized I still had so much at stake. I could possibly latch onto Marcel, devise a plan to be his friend and then just drop everything and… this is going nowhere.  
“Oi, Tomlinson!” I snapped back to reality and swiveled to look behind me. It was Nick Grimshaw. He followed me around because I was captain of the Footie team but he wasn’t necessarily my friend, and he creeped me out a bit too; always staring at Marcel as if he was some demon or axe murderer. I’m not sure why, the two have literally never spoken.  
“Yes Grimmmy? What’s up?” I called back to him.  
“Party at my place on Friday… which is the day after tomorrow. You there? Everyone knows you’re life of all the parties ‘round here, yeah?” He threw his head back laughing.  
“Yeah of course Grim! I’m always at your parties,” I smiled. Nick smirked and threw his arm around me and whispered, “there will be lots of girls. Newbies too. Hot ones.” He walked away without a word and I shivered. Girls? I could care less. 

Shaking off the weird feeling that seemed to pull me down, I got in my Lexus and drove home. I needed to do something about Marcel but I couldn’t tell what. Something that could settle with my reputation but still fit us… together. No, not like that, that wouldn’t be right. Yes, I still think that the jock and the nerd together would not work well. Arriving home, I had come to the conclusion of consulting Niall and Zayn tomorrow, as Liam was still extremely pissed off at me. It was rather annoying honestly; I’m not sure what drew me towards Marcel the Nerd out of all people. Maybe it was the humungous glasses he wore or the absolutely horrid sweater vets that even my own grandmother wouldn’t dare purchase. Either way, it was attractive and absolutely unconditionally annoying all at the same time. 

Marcel’s POV:  
Lunch was awfully awkward. I mean, Niall was all over me- not in that way, in an extremely clingy annoying way- and Louis looked so mad I was getting anxious. I’m not sure why he was so upset. Maybe it was the fact that Liam hit him but I doubted it; it was something more. He had this scowl whenever Niall talked to me. Was it jealousy? Obviously not. Louis hated me, I was a loser; he was not. Thus, he rightfully hated me. The day trudged on with no trouble at all. Louis had bailed on music class so I grabbed a seat on the piano and played around with notes during the time. Mrs. Sivan had told us tomorrow there is a huge announcement that will change the project a bit. I suppose I’ll have to wait till tomorrow to see what this announce is.

I sat at the dinner table that night quite quiet because I couldn’t get Louis off my mind. It seemed to become a nagging voice in my head in fact, and my desire for him was growing stronger. Why? WELL TO THAT QUESTION THE ANSWER IS UNKOWN. All I knew was it was driving me crazy, and to think Louis wasn’t gay- and even if he was I wouldn’t even exist on his list- but he wasn’t gay. That was it. Period. As I shuffled through my unorganized thoughts about Louis and whatnot my mother was going on about Gemma visiting from college again as Gemma herself laughed along and nodded. “What do you think Marcel?” My eyes snapped up and my mum sat waiting, a smile tugging at her lips. “Eh, great?” I tried to act as if I had been listening. Mum and Gemma burst out laughing and I blushed. “What?!” I asked and Robin stared at me peculiarly.  
“Marcel honey I told Robin that we needed to go grocery shopping when Gemma pointed you out. You looked pretty lost sweetie so I wanted to see if you were uhm… awake. Are you alright? You seem a little lost.”  
“That’s because he’s dreaming about Louis!” Gemma shrieked and laughed so hard I was afraid she might burst a lung- not that that’s exactly possible. Well…  
Mum set her napkin down on the table. “Marcel? Who is Louis?” 

I scowled at Gemma who sat practically glowing in her chair. Robin had this really horrible smirk on his face and mum just looked flat out confused. “Marcel…?” She pressed. I sighed and shot a deadly glare at Gemma. That little wanker.  
“Louis is my partner for the music project we got assigned. I have no idea why Gemma is assuming I would be dreaming about Louis.” Gemma rolled her eyes.  
“Because you said he was hot and you’ve fancied him for a few years.” Mum gasped and Robin burst out laughing.  
“Well. Not anymore.” I spat at Gemma. I could feel the blood rush to my cheeks and colour flush through them. This was the epitome of embarrassing. Of course I had just lied to my entire family and said that I no longer liked Louis but I was saving myself from further embarrassment. Truth is, I did like him still- I don’t think I ever couldn’t. Robin smiled and mum sat baffled; Gemma frowned.

\+ +

That night I got lots of sleep. It was nice to sleep away from all the tiring stress; school, family, Louis… Alright, I admit, it was mostly Louis. I was so exhausted that I didn’t feel like getting dressed up; sweater vest, dress pants, shoes, gel. Ugh, that gel. I wear it because I feel that my natural curls are rather messy… And unattractive- but I was much too tired for any of that. I found an old red and black flannel in the back of my closet and found a pair of black skin-tight jeans. Half asleep, I didn’t realize: a) my jeans had holes in them which I hated b) the stir my new style- though it was only for today- would cause c)how mum would probably force me to wear clothes like this everyday since I’d worn it one day.

I trudged downstairs and groaned. I really was not hungry… As I forced cereal down my throat mum walked down the stairs and gasped. “Marcel Edward Styles you are wearing normal clothes and you look dashing and oh my goodness gracious what shoes are you wearing and oh dear how I love those curls that I gave you- that’s right those came from me please wear the new converse I got you two months ago please, oh please dress like this everyday-“  
“MUM!” I cut her off. She took a deep breath and beamed. This was it. My intellectual life would be replaced with a ‘dress like a platonic cool guy’ one. There was no getting out of it. I sighed and walked over to the coat closet, dropping my bowl in the sink on the way. I pulled out the while and blue converse and slipped them on rolling my eyes. “Happy?” I asked her. She nodded vigorously and I smiled. I had to find a way to get out dressing like this anyway. I would miss my collar chaffing and my old sweater vests. I learned all kinds of formulas and math equations while wearing those sweater vests! My educational memories were made while wearing those sweater vests.

I kissed her goodbye and walked out the door, hauling my heavy backpack. The day was going to be interesting.

Louis’ POV:

At school I met with Niall, Zayn, and Liam (who seemed to cool down from yesterdays events) as usual. “So Louis…” Niall smiled. I looked at him dead in the eyes and blurted, “I like Marcel okay?!” All three of them smirked and I shook my head. Obviously I had to be the oblivious one in my group of friends. I mean, I couldn’t have been meant to be dumb right? I can’t imagine popping out of the womb going, “I’m meant to be hot and popular and dumb!” No. That was a weird thought.  
I was about to say something when Liam, Niall, and Zayn’s eyes widened and jaws dropped, staring in the direction of the doors. I turned around and gaped. There, walking in was Marcel. But this wasn’t ‘nerd prodigy of the 90’s’ Marcel- no this was fucking hot Marcel. Black ripped skin tight jeans with a red and black flannel and… converse? No dress shoes! I felt my heart double over and I realized that I was getting addicted to him like a drug; his clothing change had not helped either.  
“Holy shit,” Zayn muttered.  
“I-I…” I stuttered unable to say anything. He walked to his locker, eyes half asleep. He still had his glasses but they had a certain match with this clothing. I saw girls staring at him and I felt the fires of jealously course through my veins. I had nothing to worry about though, Marcel was gay. Well, according to Niall’s ‘magical sources’. “Dude you’ve got to get your shit together because the Marcel train is fucking leaving the station and ditching your league.” Niall told me. Liam burst out laughing and playfully whacked his arm. “Niall! Not to be rude but, he wasn’t exactly in Louis’ league in the first place. But yeah mate, he took a goddamn leap.” 

Marcel closed his locker and pushed a curl- a fucking bouncing curl that he usually goddamn gelled- behind his ear and turned around. His sleepy eyes locked on mine and widened. Heat rose to my cheeks and I found myself walking towards him. What was I doing?


	5. Chapter Five: Sun And Meteors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcel is just the quiet nerd that no one notices. Wasting time on him isn't worth it... Or is it? Louis Tomlinson is the best player on the high school football (soccer, in America) team. He's part of the Footies; rich, jocks who play football. He's high spirited and cheeky, but definitely has a thing for judging people. When a music project calls for partners, Marcel is noticed and Louis is beside himself. It'll just be a quick project like every other right?  
> False.  
> Feelings arise and flames will flicker. After an incident in 7th grade, Marcel never cared for friends. Just studies and family. But as he got older, he longed for friends more and more. He felt the need to love and be loved. Maybe even someone who was a bit more than a friend. That friend just may be Louis William Tomlinson. Sparks might fly or the opposite could occur; things could go very, very wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is still Louis and Marcel's POV (both). Louis' POV is extended. The rest of the fic will be 99.99% Louis' POV.

Marcel’s POV:  
I walked through the doors half-asleep. I had a feeling that I would have a tough time focusing in today’s classes; I hated that. I wouldn’t get the entire experience of education. As I walked towards my locker everyone stopped and stared at me. Holy twix I can’t look that bad… Mum even said I looked okay. Not that I care but… I pushed up my glasses nervously and ignored their stares and opened my locker; putting things in and taking things out. Turning around I saw Louis and his friends staring at me. Uh oh I thought. Their eyes were wide and Zayn had his mouth hanging open, Liam stood smirking and Niall was laughing. Louis was red as a tomato. I hadn’t realized that I was staring at Louis for so long until he started to walk towards me.

What was he doing?

He walked up to me and I immediately flinched, afraid and whispered, “please don’t hit me!” Right as he was about to reply the bell rang and I ran off towards Music. Saved by the bell. I didn’t dare look back.

Louis’ POV:  
I had no idea what I was doing. Walking over to Marcel I found that a) I couldn’t stop myself and b) I would just end up awkwardly standing there, not knowing what to say. When I reached him and his locker he shrank back looking terrified. He quietly muttered, “please don’t hit me!” And I froze. Hit him? Is that what he thinks I would do? Am I that bad? The bell rang and he ran off to Music- the class where we were partners. Students rushed to their classes but I just stood there, staring at his locker. The words kept ringing through my head. Please don’t hit me! Please don’t hit me! Please don’t hit me! Please don’t hit me! Ple-

“LOUIS!” Niall stood in front of me shaking my shoulders. I shook him off and walked to class, late, and muttered as he walked alongside me. “He thought I was going to hit him.  
“What did he say mate?” Niall asked.  
“I walked toward him and he backed up and whispered, ‘please don’t hit me!’” I slumped my shoulders and stopped turning to face him.  
“Look Louis, we can talk about this later. We’re late to class. Don’t wanna keep Marcel waiting yeah?”  
I looked and him and my stomach knotted. Still, his name made me feel different.  
“Well Niall, we’re already late. I might as well tell you. I’m done. I-I want to… I don’t know I just can’t ask him out like that!” I threw my arms up and sighed.  
Niall began walking again and I followed as he told me, “Just do what you do with friends Louis. Get to know him.”  
And with that, he walked to class.

In class I sat next to Marcel and he shifted nervously. I whispered to him carefully. “Marcel I’m uhm… I’m not going to hit you relax. I uh, I- I’m sorry about the other day. Days… I mean. Erm yeah.” Wow nice apology Tommo. I looked over at him and he smiled nervously, nodding to show he understood. I kept looking at him. His curls were so hot and he looked really hot in flannel. There was something that looked like a navy blue/black etched onto his skin that was peeking out from the collar area of his shirt; which was drooping down. Was it a tattoo? No… “Louis uhm, is everything alright?” he whispered. “Shi-uh- I mean… Ugh, holy Twix I um, never mind sorry.” I blushed and looked at the teacher. That was embarrassing. I heard a snicker behind me and saw Niall and Zayn laughing and smirking at me. I rolled my eyes and turned to the front of the class again,

“So class as I told you yesterday there would be a huge announcement regarding the project today. The announcement will help you all with your songs! Our class has been funded by the PTSA and district so we will be taking a trip to Hawaii in the USA! We will be staying for a week, and you need to get these permission slips signed by your parents by tomorrow. We will leave on Monday, which as today is Friday, is in 2-3 days. You will be sharing a room with your partner for the project. Girls, if your partner is a boy, you must switch with someone else so you share a room with the same gender. Your partner and you will spend the week as a time to get to know each other and get inspiration for your song. As much as this may seem like a vacation, it is still educational, and there are some assigned activities.” 

This was it. I felt myself feeling lightheaded. This was my chance to be with Marcel! Okay, I was getting a bit ahead of myself, but still. I turned to look at Marcel, beaming. He went pale and looked at me in fear and I immediately stopped smiling. My heart fell to my stomach. Marcel was scared of me. No, absolutely frightened. I was about to tell him something when he raised his hand.  
“Uh, Mrs. Sivan? May I please be excused, I feel a bit sick.” Mrs. Sivan looked at Marcel up and down and nodded.  
“Marcel, oh, you look… different. Very well, just take the permission slip with you and get it signed okay? And since you’re not feeling well I want someone to escort you to the nurse.” 

I felt something hit my head. I picked a paper ball that said;  
Go take him -Ni. I raised my hand. “Mrs. Sivan I can take Marcel no worries. He is my partner anyways,” I said nonchalantly, even though my heart was beating out of my chest. Marcel’s face grew even paler, if that was possible, and he gulped. “Okay Louis, go ahead, take your slip too. I want you to stay with him at the nurse’s until he feels better. I’ll contact the teacher of your next class and let them know in case you’re late. Marcel’s not one to leave class usually, this musn’t be good.” I nodded and walked up, taking the permission slip from her, Marcel following. On the way out the door I tossed the paper from Niall into the recycle bin. The moment the door closed I spoke.

“Look Marcel I said I was sorry. Please don’t be scared okay?” He shook his head frantically. “No Louis, I don’t understand. No one knows who I am, then all of a sudden I’m partners with you. Then you’re mean to me for approximately three days, and now you want to be friends?” His eyes widened and quickly spoke again, “I don’t mean you want to be my friend I-” “Marcel I do! I’m okay with being your friend.” I said. Okay? OKAY? I want to be MORE than your friend. He breathed out. “I- I don’t know…” I looked up at him and stopped.

“Marcel. Just give me one week. If I’m nice to you the whole week in Hawaii then we can make a rock-out song and be friends. You can trust me I swear.” He nodded. “Yeah okay. But why be friends with a nerd like me?” I looked him up and down. “Nerd? Marcel you may be a nerd but you’ve gotta dress like this more! All the girls check you out and you look great!” He blushed and muttered something.  
“What?” I asked.  
“Oh it’s nothing I just don’t exactly care if girls check me out or whatever you must call it.” He looked around nervously. This was it.  
“Why? Are you gay?” I questioned. Marcel blushed and I patted his back.  
“It’s fine mate, I don’t care.”  
He nodded quietly and I smiled, thanking the universe. “Really Marcy, it’s fine.”  
His eyebrows shot up. “Marcy?” I chuckled and nodded. 

I walked him to the nurse and sat with him for a bit. We talked about a few things and he seemed to be opening up. I decided to start acting like how I normally would, not all nervous, in Hawaii. I have to do all I can to get Marcel to like me and to trust me; anything, it doesn’t matter. Most of all, I have to act like I don’t care about my reputation. One problem with that. I do.

After I took Marcel to the nurse, he left to his next class and I, mine. We talked about everything and nothing. I found that Marcel really was an interesting person, and I slowly felt myself falling, falling, falling, harder and harder. Maybe it was time to give everything a chance… Then again, it’s absolutely confusing when your mind is in the centre of a hellfire. My hellfire just happens to be the love life that I yet do not have, though quite possibly… I could change that.

On the way home I stopped at the local bakery to grab a box of chocolate truffle cupcakes. Mum had texted me earlier and said “Lottie and Fiz are throwing fits, go to the bakery and grab something,” and that was what I went to do. At the bakery I told the cashier which box I wanted to purchase and handed her my card. “That will be seven pounds,” she told me and I nodded. She handed me my card and looked over her shoulder calling, “Mar, we need more C Truffles, they’re running out!” I took my card and shoved it back into my pocket when a voice called back, “Okay! I’ll be right on it A!” I froze. It couldn’t be… 

Frightened, I have no idea where frightened came from, I’m never frightened, I ran out of the bakery and hopped into my car. I was delusional.  
\+ +

The rest of the weekend went fine. I didn’t do anything really, just hung out with Zayn and Niall- Liam had some family stuff to tend to. Monday was the day we were flying out to Hawaii, and Mum was giving me the safety talk…  
“Remember boo, stay with the group,”  
“Mum! I’m eighteen, not eight, I get it!”  
“Sorry Louis, I’m just nervous… You going so far and all.”  
I groaned and pecked her cheek. “I’m going to be fine mum.” She nodded and smiled. “Oh and Louis?”  
“Yes?”  
“Please don’t do anything stupid… There might be a lot of boys in Hawaii that you find attractive but-”  
“MUM IM NOT GAY!” I yelled. How did she know this? I never told her… At least I don’t remember ever telling her.  
“Oh honey, no need to hide I’m your mum I know this stuff. You practically drip gay when you walk sweetie.” And with that she kissed my forehead and took her tea, heading upstairs, leaving me standing there with my jaw hanging.

So from that day, my mum knew about my sexuality and I too walked upstairs, deciding that at least I wouldn’t ever have to tell her. Clever one she was.

\+ +

I woke up Monday morning hauling a small carry on and duffel bag into my car. Mum hugged me goodbye right before I drove off to school. As I arrived, I walked up the steps and took a deep breath. I had to get Marcel Styles to fall in love with me. It was going to be hard. Relationships were a hard thing for me… I haven’t actually… pursued one. I’ve always been weary of this sort of thing because of events from my past.

“The Tomlinson is here!” I heard a very excited Niall Horan yell at me when I stepped into the music room. A couple people cheered as I walked toward him and Zayn. “Mr. Horan, quiet down, you are still in a classroom,” Mrs. Sivan snapped. Niall laughed and threw his arm around me nonchalantly. “Where’s Liam?” I asked, dropping my duffel to the linoleum floor. “He’s gonna meet us at the airport, had something to do apparently,” Zayn replied shrugging his shoulders. I nodded and scanned the room, looking for my partner. “Looking for your future boyfriend?” Niall snickered. He pulled out a bag of crisps and looked around the room as well. I blushed and shook my head; he didn’t seem to be in class. 

Zayn, Niall, and I talked about Hawaii and which Island we were going to- which was Kauai- and what we would do there, regardless of the lack of freedom we would have since Mrs. Sivan had ‘planned activities’ for the class.  
“Alright everyone take your seats! We are going to take roll and head to the bus, which is in the lot I suppose,” Mrs. Sivan sighed and looked at her list.

She called out all the names of many students. She was close to Marcel’s name when the door swung open, revealing a distraught Marcel, dressed similar to yesterday. He had a pair of extremely skinny dark blue jeans and a black t-shirt than hung loose on his frame. The v-neck of the shirt also hung low at his chest area and the same two little points of navy blue/black that I had seen last time peaked up from the shirt. Were those tattoos? Marcel the Nerd couldn’t have tattoos, could he? 

He hauled a duffle bag and small carry-on much like me and breathed heavily. His hair was disheveled and his lip was slightly cracked. A small line of blood trailed down his lip. “I am so sorry I’m late! A bit held up ‘s all, Mrs.,” He huffed. No one laughed, no one snickered, and no one whispered. Everyone sat silently and Marcel blushed violently. I was pretty sure everyone was beyond shocked that a) Marcel had begun to dress normally, which made him look pretty hot and b) he was hardly ever late. “That’s alright Marcel,” Mrs. Sivan said, readjusting herself. “Go ahead and take a seat next to your partner as usual, I hope you’re feeling better than you did on Friday.” He nodded and pulled his bags behind him, thrusting them under the desk and plopping down in the seat next to me himself. I tapped him on the shoulder and he turned to me nervously. ‘You okay?’ I mouthed and he nodded in a subtle way.  
“Alright, everybody up, up, up, let’s go! Take your bags and head onto the bus remember common rules, as you’ve been living on this planet for 17, 18 maybe years, so I will not be briefing you on the rules of the bus. If you misbehave, we’ll throw you out the window. Sit next to your partner! We don’t want to be late.” Mrs. Sivan opened the door and ‘herded’ the students out of the room, nervously fixing her skirt every so often.

In the bus Marcel sat by the window and I next to him. His lip was still bleeding slightly. “Marcel?” He looked at me, awaiting my question. “Why is your lip bleeding?” His eyes widened. “Uh, um, oh… Where? I fell on the steps this morning. N-no big deal,” he chuckled anxiously. He started touching his lip looking for the spot that was bleeding. I shook my head, “no hold on,” and reached under our seat. Under each seat on the bus was a small first aid kit, so I pulled ours out and opened it, grabbing a small napkin. “Let me,” I said quietly. I dabbed the small napkin on his lip and cleaned the blood off. His hand fell to his lap and he froze, wide-eyed. I laughed and looked at the napkin. “Let’s see, are there bins in a bus?” Marcel just sat there and shrugged his shoulders, shocked. I got up and walked to the front of the bus and threw the slightly bloody tissue in a small disposal bin. Before sitting down, I heard a wolf-whistle. Niall. I turned and the Irish boy winked at me, giving me a thumbs up. I sat back down thinking oh fuck, I’ve never blushed this much in my whole life. 

About an hour through the ride to the airport- which was Heathrow- Marcel announced that he was tired. He closed his eyes and fell asleep a few minutes later. Another half hour after, Marcel was fast asleep- as was a lot of the students- though with his head on my shoulder. Of course, he had no idea and would probably die on the spot if he woke up like that, but he wasn’t awake. He was sleeping, so all was well. I let his head lay there and looked at his face for an extra minute. The sun was shining on his skin and it hit me in that moment, like a million meteors crashing down. In fact, that must have been how the dinosaurs felt when they were being pummeled by the flying rocks. I realized from the almost-silent-bus and the sun glistening onto his skin, that Marcel Styles was absolutely beautiful; there was no denying it. And I was simply fueled by his beauty. So the while the sun revolves around the Earth, and the trees continue to grow, Marcel Styles would be more beautiful than ever possible, right then and there.


	6. Chapter Six: Thank You Turbulence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcel is just the quiet nerd that no one notices. Wasting time on him isn't worth it... Or is it? Louis Tomlinson is the best player on the high school football (soccer, in America) team. He's part of the Footies; rich, jocks who play football. He's high spirited and cheeky, but definitely has a thing for judging people. When a music project calls for partners, Marcel is noticed and Louis is beside himself. It'll just be a quick project like every other right?  
> False.  
> Feelings arise and flames will flicker. After an incident in 7th grade, Marcel never cared for friends. Just studies and family. But as he got older, he longed for friends more and more. He felt the need to love and be loved. Maybe even someone who was a bit more than a friend. That friend just may be Louis William Tomlinson. Sparks might fly or the opposite could occur; things could go very, very wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From now on EVERYTHING will be in Louis' POV. Apologies in advance for a short chapter. Hope you enjoy, xx.

The bus ride was absolutely peaceful. On my part. Eventually I ended up falling asleep and subconsciously leaning my face on the top of Marcel’s head. When we got to the airport Niall woke me up, and none of the other students paid much attention to Marcel and I’s position. I slowly adjusted myself and shook him awake. “Marcel,” I muttered quietly in his ear. “We’re here.” He grunted a bit and sat up, looking wildly at me. “Was I…?” I chuckled and nodded, “it’s fine Marcey, I did too.” He nodded and blushed, staring at me. Why was he staring at me- oh that’s right, we reached the airport. I shook my head slightly and stood up, stretching my arms and yawning. Grabbing my duffel bag and carry on, I exited out into the allyway and out the bus, Marcel following behind. It was relatively windy, and his curls were blowing in the wind a bit. It was beautiful. 

“Students, this way! Security is through the doors to the right. We’ll go into the Club Room.” Mrs. Sivan led the class through security checkout and into the Club Room. When Marcel arrived in the classroom, he had been wearing a sweater over his T-Shirt. During security he walked over to Mrs. Sivan and whispered something in her ear, followed by her nod. He walked over to a security scan machine and put his hands up, letting the machine search him. He never took his sweater or shoes off. 

We all waited for each other to finish through security before we found our seats. A lot of students had became close friends with their partners- Marcel and I not so much. Almost everyone sat with their partners, so Niall, Zayn, Stan, and Liam all shacked up next to Marcel and I. We all pulled out our phones and discussed Hawaii. What would we do, what would the weather be like, are the people nice, are the girls hot- which then got to the point where Liam gave Niall a death glare for bringing up girls since of course, a member of their pathetic cult was ‘digging for the d’ as Stan had phrased. My eyes widened and I turned to Marcel; I hadn’t told him about my sexuality yet. Stan laughed and put his hand on my shoulder. “Lou, don’t let your testes explode mate, he can’t even here us,” he said, nodding towards Marcel. 

Marcel’s nose was in ‘Harry Potter And The Goblet Of Fire’ even though his reading level was clearly over that book. His eyes were clouded with interest and admiration- he had no idea what was going in anything but his book. His cheeks were tinted with small blotches of pink. I sighed in relief and nudged Marcel. His eyes snapped up and looked at me in discomfort. “Um, yes?” he mumbled uneasily. “That book good?” I asked, pretending not to notice his tone. Immediately, his eyes lit up and a small smile cracked on his face. “Yeah,” he nodded excitedly, “it’s great! I’ve read it before of course. I just love reading the series though, it’s wonderfully written. And it, like, gives me everything the real world can’t. It’s like- oh. Um. Sorry, I’m rambling uh…” Colour rose to his face and he looked down at his hands. I stared at him and turned around, realizing that Niall, Stan, Liam, and Zayn were too.  
“Marce you’re all good.” I reassured him.

The way he spoke was amazing and he had all the reason to keep going for gods sake keep going because his voice was low and hot and definitely turned me on. “Eh, um. I’m just gonna,” and with that his nose was back in his book. I turned to my friends and they shrugged confused. I whispered to them, “he thinks we’ll beat him up or something,” and their eyes widened. “Legit?” Stan asked and Niall nodded chuckling. “Yeah, he’s shit scared of us.” Right then, the teacher announced that “the plane is here and if you lot don’t get up now we’ll miss it and have a one way ride back to school.” All the students shuffled and got up, grabbing their luggage. I too got up, nudging Marcel to let him know we were leaving. Taking a deep breath, I smirked at Liam and walked forward, brushing my shoulder against Marcel’s. I was going to America.

The plane was big. And when I say big I mean immaculately large. Marcel and I had side seats and he took the window. It worked for me because I had Niall and Stan on my side in the aisle seats and Liam with his partner and Zayn with his in front and behind me. Thankfully Nick was in the back of the plane, so I didn’t have to worry about that. Our flight was mid-afternoon, meaning we would end up spending the night on a plane, which was relieving. A good part of the ride I could just sleep. During the beginning couple hours, I leaned over the aisle to chat with Niall and Stan, trying to waste time. I’d never been on a fight that long, so time was ticking excruciatingly slow.  
Later that night, I found myself tapping furiously at the screen in front of me, searching through the horrid collection of ‘hot new’ films. Deciding on The Avengers, which- if I can add- is not a new film, I kicked my carry on completely under the seat in front of me and pushed my seat back. “Looks like you picked the newest film on the list,” Marcel remarked (rather boldly). I turned to him and grinned. “You do with what you got yeah?” He nodded smiling a bit. His eyes drooped slightly and I could tell his new-found spunk was just the sleep talking. “You’re very tired aren’t you?” I asked. He just shrugged and leaned his head against the window, eyes closing subconsciously. His large book was still open on his lap and within five minutes, he was out cold. I chuckled muttering to myself, “yeah, a bit tired you are.” Marcel’s tray-table was still down so I grabbed his napkin put his table up, turning the lever to secure it shut. Folding the napkin, I grabbed his book and slid it in as a bookmark. I placed the book in the seats-front pocket and plugged in my headphones and faced the screen, pressing ‘start.’

Mid-film the ride got a bit bumpy and turbulence had people jolting and shuffling in their seats. Unfortunately for Marcel, the rough air had a more… painful effect. A large ‘bump’ had him banging his head on the window he was leaning on. “Ow, fu-,” he stopped, “fudgesicles. Ugh ouch.” His hand went up to rub his forehead and he winced. I held back a laugh from his utterly profane language and tried to put on a look of concern. “Shit Marcey are you alright?” He looked at me, eyes awake.  
“Uh, yeah, just a little bump.”  
“No kidding. I don’t think that window it gonna do you justice for a pillow.” I told him.  
“What do you mean? I don’t just carry around pillows. The window will make do just fine for me.”  
“Here, hold on.”  
“What are you doing?”  
“Wait a second and you’ll see!” I whined.  
“Louis, um, I don’t…” Marcel just stared blankly at me. I had pushed up the armrest so there was no barrier in between us, and scooched closer to him. “Use my shoulder as a pillow,” I instructed. Then winking, I said, “I’ve been complimented on the luxurious experience, and here I am, offering you a go- for free. You can’t refuse now.”  
There was a dead pause and then a sarcastic snort from Marcel’s end. I tried to portray an offended look and Marcel began to giggle. He fucking giggled. “Maybe,” he began, but stopped. I lightly swatted his shoulder and he sighed giving in. Positioning himself comfortably, he laid his head on my shoulder and closed his eyes. My heart began to speed up and everything was silent.

No one was talking- it was very late at night, I supposed. All I could hear were the quiet breaths from Marcel and the low rumble of the plane engines. The occasion shifting of seats from other passengers added to the environment too. I continued my film and had a mini-panic attack ten minutes afterwards because Marcel’s arms had snaked their way around my waist and ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod this was happening really happening. An air hostess came by and noticed me awake and asked if I wanted anything to drink, which I relied with a tired smile and a “no thank you I’m alright.”  
“He’s a good one,” she said. Her name-tag said Amy.  
“Excuse me?” I looked up at her in confusion. She smiled.  
“Him,” she nodded towards Marcel. “You’ve chosen well. You both are a cute couple. I saw him reading a while ago. Looks smart. You both are lucky.”  
I shook my head and answered quietly. “Oh, thank you but we’re not… you know…”  
“Well,” she continued to smile, “you better take him quick. Or else someone else will.”

And she left, leaving me to choke on her dust trail of realization.


	7. Chapter Seven: Marcel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcel is just the quiet nerd that no one notices. Wasting time on him isn't worth it... Or is it? Louis Tomlinson is the best player on the high school football (soccer, in America) team. He's part of the Footies; rich, jocks who play football. He's high spirited and cheeky, but definitely has a thing for judging people. When a music project calls for partners, Marcel is noticed and Louis is beside himself. It'll just be a quick project like every other right?  
> False.  
> Feelings arise and flames will flicker. After an incident in 7th grade, Marcel never cared for friends. Just studies and family. But as he got older, he longed for friends more and more. He felt the need to love and be loved. Maybe even someone who was a bit more than a friend. That friend just may be Louis William Tomlinson. Sparks might fly or the opposite could occur; things could go very, very wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! FYI the rest of the story is all in LOUIS POV. Also, I have no idea how to italicize on AO3 so emphasize words as you please, my apologies. Hope you enjoy the chapter- happy reading.

I never even ended up finishing The Avengers. I just fell asleep with one headphone in my ear and one headphone hanging out like a fishing line. Marcel still had his arms wrapped around my waist and his face had been buried in the crook of my neck. I leaned my head down on his and thought, right before I fell asleep, that our position was odd since Marcel was very much taller than me. And then I thought, our wow, our, is a pretty fucking nice term when the person who completes the phrase is Marcel. I forgot that we were in an airplane full of judgmental classmates and I just kept thing ‘wow, it’s pretty fucking amazing to be careless.’ Of course this all had to end somehow because I was still the conscientious dick I was three days ago, but for now I just went with the flow because to be honest, the flow wasn’t so bad.  
+

“Louis,” a voice muttered in my ear. “Louis, um…” It was a pretty damn nice voice; low and very patient. “Er, uhh, Louis…?”   
My eyes snapped open. Marcel was looking down at me and I noticed our positions changed. My head was leaning on his shoulder and he was fidgeting with his fingers uncomfortably. I lifted my head off his shoulder and heard a throat being cleared. “So…”   
It was Amy. She was smirking and holding a notepad and pen, leaning on one leg so her hip was jutting out slightly.  
“So Louis, now that you’ve had your little naptime, quite comfortably might I add,” she narrowed her eyes at Marcel and her smirk grew, leaving Marcel blushing furiously. “What you like to drink? You seem quite… thirsty.” My eyes grew wide and she burst out laughing, a couple students turned their heads and I heard Liam and Zayn chuckling from their seats. Niall was snoring loudly in front of me. I glared at her as she stood beaming, proud of herself.  
“Uh, thank you Amy but I don’t think I’ll have anything. Well, actually I’ll have a Sprite thanks.” She nodded and looked at Marcel.

“And for the lovely partner?”

“Oh I’ll just have a ginger ale please,” he replied politely. His face looked as though one of my younger sisters had spilled their pink fruit punch all over it. She smiled warmly and walked to the next seat over. I turned to Marcel: “sorry about that uhm. We kind of had a conversation earlier- NO not about you! Ha, yeah.” Marcel shifted and nodded, not speaking. He pulled his book from the front pocket and mumbled, “oh thanks.” I smiled nervously and leaned back, shutting my eyes.   
-  
“Hi,” Marcel smiled. The low rumble of the plane engines was the only other audible sound. “Hey,” I greeted. Marcel beamed and looked down at his tray table. There was a notebook with words scratched on the pages. A pencil was tucked in the crook of his ear. I reached for the notebook and recoiled right a way when Marcel swatted at my hand. “Nope!” He said childishly, bringing his face close to mine. I smirked, “why not?”   
“Because,” he replied. I moved my face closer till we had an inch of space between us.  
“Because what?” I asked.  
“Just because, you nosey git.” He eased his face a centimetre closer.  
“Please?” I asked, bumping his nose with mine. I had forgotten about our setting and my heart was beating faster, faster, faster. Marcel laughed.  
“Nope!”  
“How can I convince you?” I whispered.  
“I don’t know,” he stated in a matter-of-fact tone.  
“Maybe…” I trailed off. His eyes reflected confusion and I fit my mouth with his. Warmth filled my chest and I cupped his neck, scooting closer. He melted into the kiss and put a hand on my waist. As I slowly began to pull away, his grip grew tighter and he made a dissatisfied noise. I smirked and swung a leg around his hip, pushing the armchair up so I was sitting on his lap with his hands on my waist. My legs were wrapped tightly around his waist even though there was no where to fall. I moved my hands and placed them on the sides of his face and deepened the kiss. I started to smile into the kiss and-  
-  
“Louis!” An ugly face and tall head of hair was looking me in the eyes. “Hi Nick,” I said yawning. He pulled a contorted face and I blinked. “What?”   
“Do you and that Marcel guy have a thing going on?”   
I choked on air and he grabbed my shoulder. “Woah there papi, calm down I was just asking.”   
I regained myself and rolled my eyes. “Why would you think that?” He chuckled but held a twisted face. “Uh, because you were sleeping and muttering the blokes name.” 

I blushed a crimson red and was about to say something when Amy approached Nick. “I’m sorry sir but you are going to have to took a seat. We will be landing in just a bit but we might hit some more turbulence on the way.” She smiled and placed a reassuring hand on Nick’s back as he walked away, eyes on the ground. I took a sigh of relief and look up at Amy standing above me.  
“Thanks.”  
“You should really defend your boy a little more.”  
I blinked.  
“How many times have I told you he’s not my- wait, where is he?” The seat next to me was vacant.  
“Went to the loo as you call it. I’m serious Louis. I get that it’s not my problem but still. I hate to see a dumber boy,” she pressed her lips in a thin line. “Now buckle up, we’re landing in a half hour and we might hit some bumps.”

She walked off and I sat up straight, clicking my seat belt into place thinking ‘wow the flight went fast’ and tried to occupy myself of thoughts of Hawaii to distract myself from everything Amy had said. As Marcel approached our seats, I got up and out of mine to let him through and remained quiet during the whole rest of the plane ride. Marcel never questioned me, and I wondered if he cared the slightest bit about me like I did for him- deep inside. But then I remembered that he used to be downright terrified of me and everything is basically fucked up and he must be confused as it is because all of a sudden I’m all mate-mate with him. I felt as if everything went dark and I was in a tunnel and Marcel was the light at the end, but there were poisonous snakes and lots of quicksand in my way- and I had to make my way through the pitch black dark and ‘poisonous snakes’ of life to get to what I really want; Marcel. Marcel. That stupid nerd boy that made this all hard for me. I want Marcel but I’ve got to pay for it. What do I want to do? 

It hurt me honestly, thinking that I would drown myself in the thoughts of all these obstacles because of Marcel but Marcel probably sat there thinking about fucking Harry Potter- not noticing me drowning in my own emotions of lov- liking for him. I couldn’t breathe because I wanted to do something. What if Amy was right? What if someone better than me came and swept Marcel off his feet? I’m too selfish to let that happen, unless I cower out of it and hide in my nest. 

But all these views changed once the plane started to descend into the beautiful array of green and blue and pink with spots of exquisite flowers. As I felt the warm sun and fresh palm trees take over the environment, it was as if all the weight was lifted off my chest. I was happy. Marcel seemed more excited too. He kept shuffling in his seat and pressing his face closer into the window until he flinched from his nose bumping into the window.   
“Pretty right?” I asked nervously, still giddy with the warm feeling in my chest.  
Marcel smiled brightly and his whole demeanor changed. “Yeah! Do you think there’s going to be a pool at the hotel?” I laughed and nudged his shoulder playfully. “Course there will be Marce. I’m sure the whole class would die in Hawaii without a pool. Unless we spent ages near a beach…” I trailed off at Marcel’s expression. When I said ‘whole class’ the light in his eyes dimmed. Did he forget the whole class would be there? Could it be that he wanted to be alone with me? No, I had to stop thinking like that. Marcel didn’t notice me like I noticed him. He was oblivious in his own world.

The plane touched the ground of the tropics about twenty minutes afterward and a couple people cheered, Niall and Nick Grimshaw included. Marcel smiled to himself and I felt my heart melt. Grabbing our stuff, the class filed out the plane doors and into the airport. This was going to be an exciting trip.


	8. Chapter Eight: Fuck Statistics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcel is just the quiet nerd that no one notices. Wasting time on him isn't worth it... Or is it? Louis Tomlinson is the best player on the high school football (soccer, in America) team. He's part of the Footies; rich, jocks who play football. He's high spirited and cheeky, but definitely has a thing for judging people. When a music project calls for partners, Marcel is noticed and Louis is beside himself. It'll just be a quick project like every other right?  
> False.  
> Feelings arise and flames will flicker. After an incident in 7th grade, Marcel never cared for friends. Just studies and family. But as he got older, he longed for friends more and more. He felt the need to love and be loved. Maybe even someone who was a bit more than a friend. That friend just may be Louis William Tomlinson. Sparks might fly or the opposite could occur; things could go very, very wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very sorry for the long wait: my computer broke down. From now on, as I am set, there will be an update every 6-15 days. Thank you.

The hotel was the epitome of Hawaii. The lobby had cool marble floors- which helped in the heat- and the walls were a beachy sand colour. Palm trees lines the perimeter of the lobby and beautiful seashells were scattered across the clear crystal windows. The hotel was obviously an expensive one. Above the front desk, sat a sign called ‘Paradi’, presumably the name of the hotel. Mrs. Sivan trailed off to the counter to collect the pack of multiple keys for each pair of partners. She called off names and anxiously gave a card key to each partner and briefed them on rules and where there room was and to meet back at the plaza in one hour ‘unless we want to be shipped back to the Brits.’ Once she called Marcel and I’s name, I grabbed my bags and walked up, Marcel trailing behind. “Okay kids,” she said, earning an eye roll from the both of us.  
“Here’s your room, 621, sixth floor. Elevators are over there. Now, there’s a balcony that overlooks the city. It’s beautiful. Marcel, I know you’ll be able to handle it, in fact, I think you’ll love it dear. But Louis, no trying to jump off the sixth floors got it?”  
“Got it.” I winked at her, just because I could.  
“No trouble.”  
“None at all.”  
“If anything…” She warned.  
I laughed, “there won’t be!” And I snatched both room keys and ran to the elevators.

“Marcel!” I sang, “come on!” Marcel grabbed his bag and shuffled uncomfortably towards me. Many of the guests shot odd glances at us, and my friends stared at me. In the elevator, I pushed the button for the sixth floor and took Marcel’s bags for him- despite his pleas of “no, it- it really is okay”- and ran to our room, him chasing behind. When I found the room, it was stunning. There were two beds with maroon and sand-tan sheets. The huge flat screen was on a dark brown mahogany cupboard. There were a bathroom off to the side, and a balcony on the other side of the beds. I set our stuff down to the side and ran to the balcony, sliding the door open. It was beautiful. Electric blue pools lay beneath us, and on the left you could see rolling hills of green and patches of pink and purple flowers. On the right, the twinkling lights of downtown Hawaii began to let themselves show. After a minute, Marcel joined me. “It’s beautiful isn’t it?” He asked. I nodded.  
“Yeah. This is going to be a hell of a trip. You know that right?” Marcel smiled.  
“Uh huh…” 

An awkward silence hung in the air, till he leaned his elbows on the railing and spoke: “you know, this is my first trip outside of England… Besides Paris when I was two. But that doesn’t count.”   
I laughed. “That’s cool, Hawaii’s the place to spend it, eh? I went to India when I was twelve, but that’s about it.”   
“Oh yeah,” he scoffed, “just India.” I chuckled.  
“Wasn’t quite a paradise Marcel. A bit ratty if you ask me. Not really my thing… Won’t be going back.”   
He just remained quiet. 

\+ + +

An hour later, I hopped down from the palm tree (not my favourite spot) and Marcel through me my phone. We had to head back to the lobby. He told me how it was impossible to climb a palm tree, and I told him I could do it easy, long as I had nothing in my pockets. Laughing he said that “statistically, you shouldn’t be able to without scraping your feet till blood comes barreling out.” I told him no one says “barreling” anymore except for in books, and that I could do it. I may have also told him to “fuck statistics” because I was “Louis Tomlinson The Motherfucking Great.” It turned out that after the difficulty- that I in fact, did, manage- of climbing it, palm trees are a great place to just sit and look up at the sky. 

We walked over to the lobby where Mrs. Sivan, as usual, was looking frazzled and tired, reading out the roll call list to make sure none of us had died in the depth of the hotel. “Okay class!” She shouted, but we were all too loud. “Shut up you lot!” And that got us quiet. Marcel and I joined Niall and Zayn. We were waiting for Liam. “Alright! Ahem,” she started. “A bus is coming to pick us up, because we are visiting the mountains, I haven’t checked which exactly…” She shuffled with her pamphlet, earning a chorus of laughs from the class. “Right okay, so we are going to talk about inspiration and whatnot. From there we’ll visit a local village. Now remember students! These village-people are not addicted Playstations and iPhones, understand? They don’t even watch the telly, so keep in mind of that… And… well, don’t talk to them about other things. Alright, let’s get out, the bus will be here in two minutes! Out! Get out, all of you!” She pushed us out.  
“Hearding cattle more like,” Niall snickered. Zayn laughed, and I looked around for Marcel, who was behind, helping Liam carry whatever the hell he chose to brought that had him late.

In the bus it was chaos. Loud laughter and talking, the occasional “fuck!”s from students earning a “language!” from Mrs. Sivan, and Niall’s rolling jokes that had the whole bus alive. “So then I told him,” he laughed, “you stupid fuck, this is a pint of beer not yeh lil’ sister’s apple juice!” And the whole bus screeched and laughed, including me, and including Liam, and even Mrs. Sivan, who had cracked a smile in the front. Marcel was chuckling too. Niall had him sit next to him, but I’m not sure why. “Hey, Irish!” Stan called out. “Tell us about the time you beat the shit out of that mall clown!” Niall rolled his eyes and got up to move to the back of the bus, where his main audience was. “Alright, ya twat. But it was Dora! Get it right! And it was a man! So get this, I was at the mall with Theo and…” The rest drowned out into Niall blurb and laughter. Since he had vacated his seat, I slid in next to Marcel, who started to grin.   
“So…” I nudged his knee with mine.  
“So,” he nudged mine with his. Then, I turned to him.  
“I have an idea.”  
“What is it?”  
“Let’s play 20 questions…”  
“Louis, we’re-”  
“Yeah, yeah, mature adults. Now come Mr. Mature, let’s play 20 questions.” Rolling his eyes, he nodded. “Fine, fine! You first.”

Cracking my knuckles, I exhaled. “Okay… let’s see… Favourite colour?”  
He laughed. “Orange. Okay, erm, favourite person?”  
“My sister Daisy, she’s a clever one that.” I smiled when I thought of Daisy. Only five years old, but more mature than Lottie and Fiz. I always went to her for little sister advice. “You must really love your sisters.” Marcel looked at me.  
“Yeah, more than anything in the world. But! It’s your turn now. So… what about your favourite person?”  
“My sister Gemma, even though she can be pest.” I laughed, and he laughed. And we continued on like that. 

Statistically, the popular kid and the nerd aren’t supposed to be friends. And the popular kid isn’t supposed to be falling in love with the nerd. But to that, I say “fuck statistics.”


	9. Chapter Nine: Not The Normality Of Coughs

20 questions told me a lot about Marcel. He had one sister who was in Uni named Gemma, he used to go to private Christian School but had to leave- he wouldn’t tell me why when I asked- and he loves to spend his time reading and watching the Harry Potter series. And he also says that there’s a lot of literary genius when you look at subtext. I just nodded because I had never read Harry Potter- any of them- so I couldn’t converse about it. He had kind of a Harry Potter fettish but really the ‘kind of fettish’ was sort of an obsession. But that’s fine, because it may or may not get me to read the series sometime in the future. I wasn’t quite the reading person when it came to popular NY Times Bestselling novels; Shakespeare was more of my thing. “Shakespeare is fantastic!” Marcel told me. “But Harry Potter has sort of the modern art that Shakespeare didn’t have…” 

We arrived at the mouth of a green and lush forest that screamed Hawaii. While Marcel went to go help Mrs. Sivan, I joined Niall, Liam, Zayn, and Stan. “Had a romantic bus ride with your nerd Lou?” Liam snickered. “Shut up Payne,” I moaned, rolling my eyes. Niall looped his arm through Stan’s and they began to mimic us, talking about Harry Potter and going “How I love just love my baby sisters!” Laughing, I tackled them to the ground, and we were lucky the entrance to this forest was a beach, because the soft crystal sand didn’t hurt at all when made impact with. “Louis and Niall and… Stan, is that you? Both of you get up right now or I will personally escort you to the airport!” Mrs. Sivan shrieked. Behind, Marcel had on her black backpack and a clipboard hand. He stood behind her silently chuckling. Getting up, I winked at him and he smiled warmly, and I swear to god, there was a bit up pink creeping up into his cheeks. We got up and walked towards a- as always- absolutely flustered Mrs. Sivan and laughed. She rolled her eyes at us, telling us to “go join Marcel back behind the bushes.” With that, Niall gave a wolfwhistle and clapped me on the back, earning the stares of a few students. 

“’Ello Marcel boy!” Niall greeted once we reached the boy with the glasses. “Oh, erm, hello,” he replied. Niall threw his arm around him and Stan went up, “hi, I don’t think we’ve properly met an’ all. Stan Lucas.” He held out his hand and smiled. Marcel grinned, teeth showing and everything, and took his hand. “Hi Stan, I’m Marcel, Marcel Styles.”   
“Nice to meet ya mate.”   
Next was Zayn and Liam. “Hi Marcel!” Liam smiled. “Got off to a rather funny start didn’t we? Me pummeling Louis in the face and that.”  
“It wasn’t a pummel Liam it hardly even hurt—” I chimed.  
“Shut up Louis.”  
“Okay.”  
Marcel waved a little and laughed. “Yeah, I suppose, I’m still not sure what that was about…”  
Zayn ruffled Marcel’s hair, and spoke: “And it’s better that you not lad. I’m Zayn.”   
“Hi, I’m Marcel. It’s very nice you see, introducing me and all that, thank you. But honestly, I already know who you all are. Popular, you lads are.” Niall laughed.  
“Awe, I guess, but it’s different Marcel, you can’t think of us like that, we’re your friends now!” And he laughed some more (Niall was quite the laugher) when Marcel beamed bright and shining. “Friends?”   
“Friends,” I said. “But,” I continued, “remember you lump of nerd, that I was your first friend out of these twats, so I’m more important yeah? I get to be the best friend, yeah?” I looked around in mock expectancy for approval, and Niall rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever Louis.” Zayn laughed and walked away, joining a couple other people from the footie team. “Well actually,” Stan cut, “Louis would like to be—”   
“Alright you lot, get with your partners and come here, we’re about to start and I happen to be responsible for your lives.” Mrs. Sivan had just about saved mine and Stan’s (as I was about ready to smash his face in) lives. I gave him a warning look and smiled nervously at Marcel’s confused one. “Well, time for you go to go Stan,” I said cheerily, and pushed him out in the other direction. He laughed, flipping me off, and smiled warmly at Mrs. Sivan when she shot daggers at him.

Marcel and I walked over to the group of forming students in front of Mrs. Sivan. “Alright, we are going to explore the forest and learn about its history and vegetation a bit yeah? Then we’ll go to a small spot where you all can talk and write or plan out your songs with your partners. Afterwards, there will be an indigenous village that we will happily visit, and help out as a part of community service.

Remember the safety rules please. Tomlinson, Horan, Lucas, you lot ought to follow these rules and stay with your partners, should they not be each other, and as I recall, they are not.” 

Niall chuckled from a bit away and tossed an arm around her shoulders. “We will Mrs., just for you.”  
She shrugged off his arm and glared at him. If looks could kill, we would well off be arranging Niall’s funeral right about now. There was, however, a glint of humour behind those eyes.  
“Horan,” she scolded.  
“Sorry.”

“Anyways, now for the rules, extended. Remember…” And she drilled on many, “stay with your partners” and “don’t touch anything that looks odd or poisonous” as well as “respect the villagers and their way of life or suffer a painful death my hands.”  
She cleared her throat. “And in conclusion, follow the rules so we can get on with this.” We all cheered in mock admiration and she laughed, leading us into the bushels of greenery. 

\+ + +

The forest was, even though I would never admit it, beautiful. It looked as if it were from a painting or cliché holiday postcard men wearing floral baggy shirts would send home to their old parents. The air was warm and sweat clung to me and, very unfortunately, so did the bugs. Every few minutes I would end up swatting off something or the other. Marcel said I must have really nice blood or something that ended up drawing them near. Purple and pink flowers with bright yellow centers dotted the trees. Every now and then, a neon orange bug would buzz around from flower to flower. Little blue plants nearly glowed between dark green bushes. Birds of all shapes, sizes, and colours flew from tree to tree, carrying bits of tropical fruit in their beaks. Every now and then, little pieces of fruit would fall from the sky (moreso the treetops) and a girl would let out a shriek. Luckily, I had been spared from this.

As we walked through the colours and hidden lives being lived by the different species that made the forest their home, Marcel stopped abruptly. No one noticed, so we fell behind. He bent over and took a deep breath. “Marcel?” I asked. “You alright?” He tried to nod, but failed. He took small inhales and exhales, and began to talk. “Sorry, I,” he spoke breathily. “I’m a bit short of breath I—” And out came the coughs. They were horrible sounding coughs, and scared me to death. They sounded like a broken car that was about to explode. Red-faced, he seemed embarrassed. “Sorry, I…” I cut him off by wrapping an arm around his waist.  
“It’s okay Marcel. Let’s go, your getting a bit worn down yeah?” He nodded shakily and I led him to catch up with the others with caution. “Thank you,” he whispered. I gave him a light squeeze in return. 

When we finally joined the others, Niall walked back towards me. Mrs. Sivan was listlessly lecturing everyone on the Bougainvillea, unaware of Marcel or his little… episode. “You guys alright? Fell behind there.” Ah. So someone had noticed.  
“I’m not positive.” I replied looking at Marcel. He gave Niall and I a wary smile and a lopsided thumbs up. “All good,” he breathed. Niall eyed him skeptically.  
“Doesn’t look like it, mate.”  
“He had a coughing fit and lost his breath for a bit. Marcel, you sounded like you were on the brink of explosion.” I looked at him straight in the eyes. He avoided my stare and shrugged.  
“I have Asthma Louis.”   
Niall clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Okay, good, let us know if ya need anything, yeah?” Marcel smiled Niall off, and the blond boy made his way back up to the front.

“Horan, what were you doing?” Mrs. Sivan asked when he got to the front. “Sorry ma’am, had to take a wee!” Everyone snickered and I silently thanked him with all my might. Mrs. Sivan looked taken aback and coughed awkwardly muttering, “ah, okay…” She quickly turned back around to continue her speech on the Bougainvillea.

Arm still around his waist, I guided him forward, but kept us behind the others as we all continued to stir forward through the forest. “Marcel?” I asked.  
“Mmhm?”  
“My cousin has asthma.”  
“Oh… I’m sorry.”  
“You know what I’m getting at right?”  
“I’m afraid not no.”  
He seemed quite distant and I held on a little tighter, just in case he fell over.  
“Marcel, my cousin has asthma, and I was a witness when she had an attack, and here and there she even has little coughing fits. That, what happened with you back there, is nothing like what happens with asthma.”  
“Louis,” he spoke sharply. “I am fine.” And then he slipped out of my grip and walked forward, stumbling a little bit on the way.


	10. Chapter Ten: We Only Need Love

Marcel had a difficult time walking solus, nearly falling over and using trees as support. No one noticed of course, being in the back and all. I stayed a couple steps behind, just in case he went out cold. There was even a time when he nearly fell over, so he used a tree stump for support. The stump had sap all over it, so he got the sticky substance all over his hand, preventing him from holding onto anything else. That’s- incidentally- where I came in, grabbing him despite his protests when he nearly fell into a large region of shrubs. “Marcel,” I told him warningly, and he had no choice but to shut up and let me help. 

Later on, Niall cracked some joke or another, and the whole class laughed, including Mrs. Sivan. Liam, face crinkling in humour, turned to me and saw me clutching a pale Marcel. He moved back towards us and furrowed his brows, mouthing ‘is he okay?’ and I had no choice but to shrug my shoulder because really, was Marcel okay? 

After a half an hour of walking through shades of green and painted pinks, we reached a clearing with a bed of grass and a couple tree stumps. “This,” Mrs. Sivan opened her arms and smiled, “is a place I found. It’s great for inspiration I suppose, and well, this will be the first bit of time you can use to write your songs. Take a seat or stand anywhere and get working! 

I know, I know,” she sighed, “this is not enough time to write a song. However we’ve got one week including spare time that we will give as your responsibility. Alright, start!” She clapped her hands and stood to the side, leaning on an idle palm tree. A blur of people sat, stood, laughed, and pulled out notebooks from bags. I released Marcel and let him sit on the lush grass, my following suit. “Marcel…” I tangled and untangled my fingers, looking up at him. He cleared his throat.  
“Sorry, Louis, about my outburst. I’m not used to people other than my mum caring as such. I’ll be right back.”   
He lifted himself off the ground- nearly falling on the way- and hobbled over to Mrs. Sivan. He bent down to whisper something in her ear and she nodded. Pulling out her backpack, she opened a zipper and Marcel reached in to grab his inhaler. One puff, two puffs, done. Smiling, her gave her a thumbs up and walked over to me. As he made his over, I realized he resembled a large teddy bear- unlike when he dressed like a proper nerd stereotype. His steps were large and he just looked so warm and happy. Besides the pale face that had resulted after his episode, his smile seemed as if it could light up the world.

“All good?” I asked when he sat back down. “All good,” he confirmed.   
“So,” I said.  
“So.”  
“This song?”  
“Right, got it. What’s it supposed to be about?” He crossed his legs and leaned back on his arms, chest moving up and down.  
“Dunno,” I shrugged. “Not quite feeling as inspired as the teacher would hope I’m afraid.”  
Marcel smiled small. “Yeah, me too.”   
I picked at the grass and looked around. No one was writing or working on songs anyway. It really was like a vacation. Even Mrs. Sivan was chatting herself up with one of the other nerds. “Well then,” I said, “let’s go join my mates yeah? Unless you want to join your friends?” Marcel looked confused for a moment then blinked.  
“Oh no,” he laughed nervously, “I don’t think my uh, friends- mates, mates, would want me to uhm… Let’s go hang out with your friends!”   
Narrowing my eyes, I nodded. Something was going on and I wasn’t sure what. 

Marcel and I joined Niall, Liam, and Zayn a minute later.  
“Where’s Stan?” I asked. Niall snickered.  
“Hitting up that girl, Eleanor I think her name is?” Zayn replied, nodding his head to the left. Stan was smiling as a pretty girl with brown wavy hair spoke and moved her hands in the air, causing him to laugh. If I wasn’t gay, I would probably hit on her. She was… well… gorgeous.

But Marcel was more gorgeous, so it’s alright.

The hour passed by with jokes and Marcel’s stunning laugh, followed by Niall going, “oi! He’s staring again!” every time I admired Marcel when he smiled or blushed or raked his hand through his hair every now and then. Marcel would then, blush even more, and I would flip Niall off. Liam would smirk and whisper something to Zayn, who would end up coughing “whipped” earning a slap from me. All in all, it was the most fun I’ve had in a long while. It concluded with a red-in-the-face Mrs. Sivan clapping her hands.  
“I know none of you were productive with your songs! So… let’s go move on.” She smiled fondly as if there was nothing else to do.

\+ + +  
Idyllic.   
That’s what would be used to describe the village right outside the indigenous forest. It wasn’t what we all thought; poor, underprivileged people with children starving, racing through the tunnel of poverty. Everyone was happy. Old women sat laughing, doing something or another with fruit and children ran about, smiling and giggling. They weren’t wearing torn rags, looking sick. There were men who spoke loudly, cutting wood. It was picturesque. Huts with round cone-shaped straw roofs sat in clumps as the palm trees towered over them, sheltering them with shade. “Oh my…” I heard Marcel (who seemed relatively better) whisper. Stan was nodding in approval and Mrs. Sivan beamed.  
“They know a bit of English.” She said. Scanning the small village, she waved to a young man. He had tanned skin and a thick beige vest. “Tracy!” He exclaimed. American.  
His accent sounded funny as he greeted our teacher.   
“Hello Mr. Smith. Thank you again for having us.”  
The man shook his head and smiled. “Please, call me Tom. It’s great actually, we’re having trouble with building and that. Shortage of people. Thank you for the help.” He looked to us and nodded.

“First things first,” he cleared his throat. “Boys, go over to that half made hut. You’re only here for a couple hours so we’ll end up finishing the one house. Girls, go over to that older woman there with the straw. She’ll teach you how to make the knots for the roof.”

We followed Tom over and he showed us the new brick he brought in from Arizona especially for the village. “Here’s the outline,” he told us. “Put the paste on the bricks, place the first row on the circular outline, and keep pilling em’ on.” He hauled about ten buckets of white paste and handed us each a silver tool. A boy about fifteen years old came running over. “I’m- I’m here,” he breathed heavily, probably from running. “Everyone, this is Metias, he’s going to help you. He lives here. Okay, get to work, only two hours to go!” 

Scrambling around, we all set to work, grabbing bricks and spreading paste. This wasn’t what I expected, but since when is it ever. “Move it about forty-five degrees, it’ll slide in place.” I looked to the side and Metias stood, holding a break smothered with white paste, analyzing my work. I did what he said (estimated, at least, as to what forty-five degrees was) and the brick slid perfectly in place. I laughed, delighted. “Nice! How’d you know that?”   
“Math,” he said simply. Stepping forward, he pushed his brick into place between to others.  
“Yeah but how did you figure it out so fast? Did you use a protractor or sommat?”  
He smiled. “In my head. We don’t have tools here. Just our brains.”   
We laughed.  
“So… you’re a genius yeah?” I asked.  
“No, no. But that’s what Tom says. I really am not though.”  
“Tom eh?” I walked over with him to grab another brick.  
“Yes,” he said. “Tom is like an uncle to me, and family to my family.”

“Lou! Pass me the paste spreader thing yeah?” Niall called from behind. I picked up a tool and tossed it to him. “Nice name you dolt.”

I looked back to Metias. “So why not go to college?” I wondered, but realized he was too young anyway.  
“I can’t afford it.” He said bluntly. A pang of guilt hit me and I felt bad. Of course, we were in a village in the middle of Hawaii. Where did college come from? “But,” he added, “Tom has offered to pay for my education when I reach the age. A couple years more only.” I smiled.  
“That’s good mate.”  
“I’m not going though.” He shrugged. I took a scoop of white paste and spread it across the red brick. “Why?”  
“I have Aliah. I don’t think I’m going to leave her.” He nodded towards a pretty girl with a flower in her hair. She was teaching Eleanor the knots for the roof. I gawked.  
“You’re not going to college for a girl?”  
“Of course not!” He replied. “Not for a girl, for love.” I shook my head in disbelief. This boy was ridiculous.

“I will never meet anyone who I can love more or who can love me more than Aliah. She is the only person who will understand what I have gone through in life.”  
“But you’re getting the opportunity!” I exclaimed. “Wouldn’t you need to have a life, to be something, if you can?”   
Metias shook his head and smiled, pilling two bricks on top of each other. “We only need love.”   
I became silent and thought about my probably football scholarship, and looked towards Marcel, who was laughing with Stan while picking paste off his face. “Ooh.” I heard.

Metias was smirking at me. “You love him, don’t you? He looks intelligent and understanding. Like someone who enjoys to listen.” I coughed.  
“What? No!” I didn’t love Marcel did I? “It’s just a small crush,” I told him. Why did I tell him this?  
“Aliah was my crush in first grade,” he said, mocking me with the use of the word ‘crush.’ “Now we are in love.” He chuckled. I didn’t say anything, instead silently worked for the next two hours. Metias didn’t say anything either; he understood. We just worked quietly, listening the banter of other people, laughter of girls and children. 

Time passed quickly, and after what seemed like a half an hour. Tom approached us. “Thank you! For all your help. Time’s up though and you’ve got to go. You guys are in Hawaii! Live a little when you get back alright? And don’t tell your teacher I said that.” We laughed and a boy with crooked teeth gave him a mock salute. As I walked behind the crowd, scanning for Marcel, a hand grabbed my arm. “Wait, Louis.” Metias looked at me with big eyes.  
“I’m not telling you to give up a great opportunity or college or anything. All I’m saying is that sometimes the person you’ll truly love forever is a thousand miles away from you. Sometimes they live in the same village as you,” he looked at Aliah fondly. “But sometimes,” he looked me in the eyes. “They are right next to you, in large glasses and a loose white t-shirt. I see the way you look at him Louis. Remember, take it from me, foolish young me.” He laughed. “Love is the only the we need.” He let go and walked off the Aliah, smiling so wide, you would think he won the bloody lottery. I kept staring, he looked happy. Happy. Turning around, I ran back to the class, and stood next to Marcel right in the front. He smiled at me and I smiled back. We walked silently.

I sat down next to Marcel in the bus. After a few minutes of silence he nudged me. “Louis?” He asked. “Are you alright?”   
I thought for a moment. Am I alright? Am I? Then I looked into his eyes, those intoxicating yet innocent green eyes and beamed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. As his eyes lit up I squeezed his shoulders and sighed. “Yeah.” I said. “I’m great.” And yeah, I was great. Everything was great.


	11. Chapter Eleven: Tattoos

Back at the hotel Zayn suggested we ask Mrs. Sivan if we could attend the ‘Paradi Beach Party.’ We insisted Marcel join but he didn’t seem so keen on it.   
“It only ends at midnight Mrs.!” Niall begged. “We’re seventeen not seven! Please!” But Mrs. Sivan shook her head and crossed her arms. “There will drinking and in America you’ve ‘ought to be eighteen. Sorry loves. Besides, I can’t have you lot getting drunk away from the UK and your parents.” Liam and I looked away in defeat just as Marcel sighed in relief. Stan groaned and Niall… Niall wasn’t having it.   
“We’re not going to be getting drunk! Swear it! Cross our hearts on the flag of Britain, tell her Stan!”   
“We swear it Mrs.” Stan smiled. “Not even a drop of alcohol.”  
Mrs. Sivan narrowed her eyes. “Really Mr. Lucas. You’d think I’ll believe you?”  
“Well, why not? Innocent and young!” He smiled sweetly.  
“Young? Yes. Innocent, no. Must I remind you of sophomore year? You, Tomlinson, and Grimshaw? Got the whole staff involved in your little dottish act.”   
Stan blushed and walked off quickly. I closed my eyes and swore ‘ah fuck.’ That year was quite possibly the worst I blamed Grimshaw mostly. Marcel was looking at me inquisitively, and I shook my head.   
“Eh let’s go to the room Marce, it’s a lost case.” He nodded and followed me to the elevator. Liam quietly followed Marcel. I looked back to see Mrs. Siva smiling sourly at Niall as he went off on a random rant, Zayn silently staying at his side. “You may visit the beach, fine! But I don’t want you at any party you hear me? Horrible you lot.” Niall stuttered some sort of ‘fine thanks’ but I couldn’t hear as the elevator doors closed in front of us.

The room was freezing cold. “Oh my,” Marcel breathed. “A bit chilly yeah?” I laughed as his casualty. “Fucking hell, it’s bloody freezing!” I responded, watching the other boy’s cheeks flame and eyes widen. I laughed again and got a strange warm feeling in my stomach. It wasn’t something I’d felt before but I left it alone. Marcel coughed a hacking cough- similar to the one earlier and I began to worry. “You sure…?” He looked at me and smiled. “I’m fine thanks.” He said. I knew better though, and checked the thermostat. I clicked the ‘Celsius’ button on the screen and it flashed ‘8 Celsius’ on the screen.   
“Shit!” I exclaimed.   
“What’s wrong?” Marcel approached with a raspy voice.   
“Someone got in and turned on the air condition so now the room is about eight Celsius. And you sound horrible. Let’s go outside, it’s warm.”  
He nodded and stepped into the hallway after me, door clicking with a shut. “I’ll be right back, gotta visit the lobby downstairs real quick,” Marcel informed, stepping into the elevator. I nodded and leaned against the hallway wall. 

“Little chilly in there, eh?” Nick Grimshaw stepped outside. He smiled and I growled. “You went in and changed the temp? You idiot!” He shrugged. “Had to give you a little wake up call,” he shuffled through his pocket and pulled out a key. “Left your room key where it isn’t supposed to be,” he winked, handing it to me. Rolling my eyes, I grabbed the key.  
“Marcel was freezing and coughing- ah, sorry, I mean, yeah. He was cold. But I was freezing my arse off. Twat.” Nick snorted. “Well sorry, but I’m sure your arse will be alright. Captain of the footie team can survive a little cold. Marcel though, hmm… He can shack up with me? It’s warm.”   
“No.” I said too quickly. “Erh, no, I don’t think Mrs. Sivan would want people switching around rooms.”  
“Tomlinson caring about the rules! Unheard of! You know Louis, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you have a thing for the gay nerd. But of course, I do know better.” He smirked and turned around, right as the elevator doors opened back up with a ‘ding.’ “Marcel,” Nick nodded. Marcel wheezed in return. As the opposite door shut, Marcel turned to me. “What’d he say?” I shrugged. “The ‘lil piece of shit said he’d did it. Jacked m’ key and everything.” Marcel’s eyes widened, lips forming the shape of an ‘o.’ I chuckled. “He’s an evil one Marce, dick that one is.” Marcel nodded vigorously and followed me back into the room and with a couple buttons, the room temperature was soon back to normal. “Still a little bit chilly yeah?” I asked. Quietly, the other boy nodded. 

Shortly after, we heard a knock- rather a bang- at the door. Opening it, Marcel got barreled by Niall and Zayn, who were heaving. “Lou! We got permission to go to the beach! And that means we don’t have permission to stay late and go to the party but since when did we give a fuck! C’mon! Cleared from Sivan and all!” Niall pounded across the room boisterously. “True mate,” Zayn said, responding to my curious expression. “Gotta be back by ten and party starts at ten thirty, should be easy to snag a lag.” I raied my eyebrows and gave Niall an impressed smile for working things out the usual Tommo Way. “I’m in, who else?”   
“Liam is joining, Stan too, Perrie, Eleanor, Sophie, a girl named Emily, and a couple other lads. Oh and Grimshaw.” Niall and I cringed at the last name and Zayn chuckled. “And, Marcel, you’ll be coming too, eh?” Marcel’s eyes grew and he shook his head.   
“No, no! I might be friends…?”   
“Friends.” I confirmed.  
“Yes, friends,” he continued, “with you all, but I’m still Marcel the Nerd! Marcel the goody-two-shoes, and Marcel the-one-who-doesn’t-break-rules.” He spoke quickly, eyes darting around the room as if looking for an escape.   
“Come on Marcey! It’ll be fun! You could meet some mates! If you know what I mean,” Niall snickered. He smirked looking at my furious reaction to the idea and Marcel’s frightened one.  
“Sorry mates, I’ll pass.” He said. I sighed, suddenly my urge to go was less. The thought of seeing Marcel in a swim trunks- probable tattoos exposed and drunk off his ass had me going, driven even to make the best of the night. “Marcel,” I whined. “What are you going to do alone here anyway?”

“Work on the song,” he said. “It’s our song.” I reminded him. “Group song, you can’t write it without me! I swear we’ll get it done, three hours straight of songwriting or instrumentals or whatever you want! Tomorrow! Please! If you come.” He gazed into my desperate face for a while and groaned. “Fine.” He said. Niall whooped and Zayn rolled his eyes. “Don’t even know why you’d want me to come so bad anyways,” he grumbled as we pushed Niall and Zayn out. I smirked to myself but couldn’t help but think. Bloody hell Marcel, you’re going to find out why.

‘Bout ten minutes later Niall bounded for the elevator with Zayn and Liam. Stan and I followed behind and a full five feet behind us was a nervous Marce creeping slowly. “Relax M!” Stan winked. Marcel’s cheeks flamed. We were all in swim trunks for the beach, but Marcel had covered up with a t-shirt. “You’re gonna have to take it off soon Marcel,” Liam rolled his eyes and said. But Marcel stuck his nose up and huffed. “I will when the time comes. Lousy lot.” I smiled when he said that; Marcel Styles, school nerd breaking out of his little shell. I wore royal blue trunks and he wore navy. Niall and Liam both wore some sort of Hawaii-themed floral trunks and Zayn settled for a simple black.   
\+ + +  
The beach was fruitful. People were dancing and singing and the kids were clearing out. Girls and guys drank tropical drinks that most likely had some sort of alcohol in them and the waves crashed soothingly but wildly. We dropped our stuff a few feet from the shore and Niall turned to us. “Done it, we’ve done it. Right then, party starts in about half an hour so might as well get a little wet yeah? On the beach in Hawaii, this is something to brag about to the sissies eh Tommo?” I grinned and got up, kicking off my flip-flops. Stan and Niall waited with me for Marcel. He slowly pulled the t-shirt off his back and I watched how his muscles moved. His hair flopped out the shirt and it looked much better than when he had it gel’d. As he tossed his shirt to the ground Stan snickered. “Oh lord,” he remarked nudging me. “You’ve got it bad mate.” And the thing was I didn’t even reply or hit him or let up with a snide comeback because Marcel Styles was walking towards me in swim trunks and he had tattoos. Fucking tattoos. Lots of them. A large butterfly was spread across his abdomen and two swallows fly harmoniously on his chest. His upper arms were dotted was meaningful tats here and there. He was a work of art. “See ya! Have fun drooling over Marcel!” Niall told me and rushed to the water with Stan and the others.

“Uhm Louis…? Why are staring at me?” His eyes trailed down my body and as if with realization, they snapped back up. Nervously he coughed and crossed his arms in front of him. I wanted him to move his arms so I could see the curves of his body and the dark ink beautifully engraved on his tan skin. “Nothing, sorry, just zoned out,” I commented and turned away. “Let’s join the lads eh? Waste some time for a half hour?” Nodding, he followed, like always. As he approached the two-foot tall waves Stan wolf whistled. “Damn it Marcel! Nerd lord has quiet the gettup!” He smiled warmly and Marcel blinked, confused. “He means he thinks you look good,” I whispered. “Oh,” he breathed and his eyes widened at Stan. I felt a burning sensation, as if I went him to be flustered and flattered looking at me. Fortuitously, I pushed in him into the water and he gasped, then laughed, and a half-hour went by like that.  
\+ + +  
People started showing up on the beach for the late-night party around fifteen minutes before. Neon glowing lights were newly scattered across the sand to signal everyone: Hello, yes, this is a fucking party, come fuck with us. Niall and Stan cheered, barreling down to the bar. Liam found a girl he liked and began to chat her up. Zayn followed suit of Niall and sat at the bar. A few minutes later it was dark, pitch dark, and lights flashed everywhere, music blared through speakers and the beach was a haven. “Let’s get a drink!” I called to Marcel as we pushed through sweaty bodies dancing and grinding and doing really everything there was to do. The party had been twenty minutes in and it was filled with teenagers and young adults, desperate for a bit fun in our cruel, cruel world. “Oh, Louis I don’t drink!” Marcel called back. I smirked and looked into his curious eyes and grabbed his arms. “You will this time!” And from there it went uphill.


	12. Chapter Twelve: Shots And Regrets Lead To Hidden Things

“Just one though,” He told me nervously. I winked and turned to the bartender. “Wait Louis!” Marcel grabbed my wrist. I turned and raised my eyebrows. “This is America, we’re too young.” I shrugged and smiled. “I’ve got it Marce.” Turning back to the bartender I leaned across the counter and yelled over the noise. “Five shots! Make em’ light yeah?” The bartender nodded and got out the glasses. “ID?” He asked before pouring the glasses. I shuffled through my pockets and feigned a scared look. “Shit, mate, I think it fell out of my pocket, dancing and all! Crazy party!” The bartender looked at me hard then nodded, believing my lie. He poured five shots and pushed across towards me. I thanked him and handed Marcel a tiny glass. “Try one!” I yelled. “You’ll get used to it and I swear you’ll want more.” Marcel shook his curls out of his face and looked at me. “Only one.” I rolled my eyes and nudged his shoulder. “Drink up,” I smirked.

He coughed and gagged but obliged when I handed him another, that time downing it easier. The third went down with one cough and the fourth slid down with ease. I handed Marcel the fifth, “only if you want!” He smiled with rosy cheeks and took the glass from me. “Lou lou thanks!” And I knew he was buzzed. “Six more,” I called to the bartender and I drank four and Marcel two. “Nearly not drunk enough,” I told Marcel. He chuckled and turned around. “Oi! Where are you going you animal?” I called. He turned his head and rolled his eyes. “Going to dance you shithead.” Shocked I stood there and watched him waltz to the center of where everyone danced. “Shit he’s drunk,” I said. Downing another four shots, I gained the courage (and alcohol level) to head over to the dance floor and meet Marcel. Niall was dancing with some brunette in a bikini. I scanned the area and found Marcel dancing with a thin boy with black hair. Marcel moved effortlessly as the other boy slowly grinded against him. Marcel’s eyes blazed with want and his movement were a little hazy from the alcohol. In a second the boy with black hair wrapped his arms around Marcel’s neck and latched on with his lips, sucking and biting. I saw Marcel freeze and then relax. He’s so bloody drunk, I thought. Even the mention of this would give sober Marcel an asthma attack. As Marcel placed his hands on the other boy’s waist, tipping his head back, I felt a jolt of jealousy and anger. I walked off with false confidence and pried off the boy. “He’s with me twat, fuck off.” The boy rolled his eyes and stalked off muttering, “well damn he was a fucking good one.”

I looked at Marcel with wide eyes. His cheeks were flaming red and his eyes were glassy. “Lou lou?” He smiled. “Yeah?” I placed a hand on his hip. He frowned and pulled my hand off. “Stop! Dance.” He slurred. He moved his hips in slow circles, grinding into me and I hissed. “Fuck, Marcel, how many times have you done this?”   
“First,” he mumbled, latching onto my neck.  
“Fuck,” I cried.   
He peppered me with bruises trailing up my neck and stopped, stepping back and staring at me. I felt a heat all over that I couldn’t ignore and I was so drunk and he was so drunk and it was bloody hot. “Kiss me you fool,” I said, and dove in, crashing my lips on his. It was full of lust and desperation and alcohol and then tongues came in and this was going to cause so many problems in the morning but I pushed those thoughts away because this was the prize of life right here.

I reached up and tugged on his curls, kissing harder and he tightened his grip on my waist. Bodies pressed together tightly, we snogged till we ran out of breath. “Hotel room, let’s go.” I whispered against his mouth. Marcel shook his head. “Too far,” and he pressed his hips into mine. I groaned. Dragging him I pulled him up the beach and pressed him against a palm tree by the pool, marking his chest. “Oh god!” He whispered. Letting go, I lead him into the lobby and in the elevator I gave him a good snog since we were alone. We ran up to the door and walked into the room. The moment it closed behind us Marcel, fucking Marcel who had never done a thing in his life took the lead and slammed me against the wall, pressing his lips to mine and moving his hips in slow circles on me. I groaned and grabbed his lower region. We fumbled with the waistbands of our swimsuits and made it to my bed, not breaking from the kiss. I let go and slid down to my knees. I never thought in a million years what happened would ever actually happen. Marcel hissed and grabbed a fistful of my hair to steady himself and I smirked.  
\+ + +

The sun shone on my face and woke me up. My head pounded and I felt like I was going to throw up. My massive hangover made my ears throb and I coughed. I felt the sheets soft and silky over my bare body and turned around. I froze. Marcel lay asleep next to me, naked, tattoos (multiple fucking tattoos) exposed. His hair was tangled and sprawled, mouth slightly open, breathing gently. The strangest thing was I was so pissed drunk last night, and I still remembered every detail, every kiss, every touch. The even stranger thing was I didn’t regret a single second of it. The fact that it was with Marcel made me happy and a warm comforting feeling spread across my chest. As soon as it had come, it had gone, and fear had overtaken me. What would Marcel think when he woke up? Would he get scared and never talk to me again? I put my head in my hands and groaned. “Dammit!” 

Marcel stirred. His eyes opened and I sat still exactly where I was, bracing myself for Marcel’s reaction. “God my bloody head hurts, I-” And I lifted my head from my hands. “Uh,” I said pathetically. Fear blanketed his face and he pulled the sheets up. “Oh my god! Louis, I-. God did we? Oh no.” He whimpered. I shook my head. “No, we didn’t. Just got a little heated, blowjobs and things but not. Not that.” He whimpered, looking down at the sheets. I moved closer to comfort him but he flinched. “Don’t hit me I’m sorry!” I sunk back and it all felt like de ja vu. I reached out and caressed his face with my hand. As I spoke I felt all my walls my ego, my worries come crashing down. “Marcel, why do you think I’m going to hit you?”  
He looked up cautiously. “Aren’t you disgusted that we- I, lost control?”  
I shook my head again. “Marce, love,” he blushed at that, “do you regret last night?”  
He remained silent, curiosity filling his green eyes.  
“I don’t,” I stated, admitting it more to myself than him. He stared at me for a while to test my authenticity. Marcel looked down and fiddled with the white sheets. “I don’t either,” he whispered.

 

“So we’ve got a couple things to talk about,” I said, dying my hair. I spent twenty minutes mustering up the courage to talk while I waited for Marcel to shower and spent another twenty thinking of things to say when I was in the shower. Marcel nodded, keeping a distance from me. “Come here,” I opened my arms, and he walked carefully into them, wrapping his long ones around my body. “I think it’s obvious to say that I like you considering I don’t regret last night at all.” He stepped back and looked at me confused.  
“I thought you like me before too? You wanted to be my friend I thought?”  
I chuckled and shook my head. “Not like that you dollop, I mean like like.” His eyes widened and mouth formed the shape of an ‘O.’ My cheeks flamed and I could feel them pinkening. “Marcel, this is the bit where you either admit you like me too or reject me but please, god please, don’t leave me hanging.”  
“I like you too, I have for a couple of years,” he said bashfully. I smiled and felt the weight off my shoulders. I walked up and wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him sweet and fast.   
“Then Marcel Styles, will you be my boyfriend?” I asked. He hugged me and tucked his face into my neck. “Yes,” came the muffled reply.


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Things Always Get In The Way

The next few days consisted of quiet kisses and sneaky hugs. I wasn’t ready to come out to the entire world about our relationship (it was more about my sexuality than our relationship) and Marcel completely understood. The rest of the trip was beautiful and became a romantic journey, as cheesy as that sounds.

When we returned to London, a week went by until we told our families. Both mums were completely supportive. Robin ruffled Marcel’s hair and told him he was proud Marcel opened up to someone and told him that if he made me pregnant he would thrash Marcel against a wall. The boy blushed and Gemma laughed till she coughed.

The real trouble began a week after, when Marcel began to grow restless. Liam had warned me that this would happen eventually; it was human nature, and I would have to do something about it. Marcel became agitated that he couldn’t peck his boyfriend on the lips after school or that he couldn’t hold his hand while we walked up to school. He began to feel jealous when girls hit on me and he couldn’t come hold my hand or wrap his hands around my waist to prove that I’m his. Admittedly, I felt the same. With Marcel’s new look in always too-skinny jeans and low scooping shirt and sweaters, occasionally a head-band too, girls always hit on him. They always asked questions that had him spitting out scientific facts or mathematical equations while they curled their hair around their fingers and laughed. For the most part, Marcel was completely oblivious to it, and I wanted to go over there, pin him against a wall, and snog his face so no one would ever hit on him again.

Niall would sometimes tell me to go ever there and ‘redeem myself.’ I would just shake my head and walk away. 

It came to a point where Marcel was always cranky and agitated and I couldn’t even blame him. Nick Grimshaw was no help either. No one gave a fuck about him so he could go about doing anything he bloody wanted without anyone noticing. 

It all happened when I decided to apologize to Marcel about, well, me. And maybe discuss when I would come out. It was getting old, carrying on with the old charade of straight, popular guy. Taking a deep breath, I went into the library, in the fiction section exactly where Marcel would be on a Friday after school if not with me. “Marcel I—” I said but froze in my tracks. Nick Grimshaw had his hands on Marcel’s hips, Marcel’s arms in the air as if surprised. I couldn’t tell if Marcel was even struggling or even trying to push him away before I said his name. They broke apart and Marcel’s eyes widened. Nick smirked and winked at me. I felt my eyes tear up and Marcel grab my arm. I jerked it back and turned to him.  
“Oh, are you okay?” Nick asked, feigning concern. “Are you upset that Marcel and I? Oh, I’m sorry, he’s available isn’t he? It’s not like you’ve told anyone that he’s not,” he added with a smirk. And that was the knife in the stomach. “No Louis, I swear I tried to push him away I—”   
I held up a hand and let a tear fall. “It is what it is.”


	14. Chapter Fourteen: Height Gamblers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting from today, I will be updating chapters weekly till the book's end. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.

            “See Nialler, this always fucking happens. ‘S why I wanted to stay away from relationships and shit. It had only been a couple weeks!” I blew out a puff of smoke and offered a cigarette to Niall. He shook his head and sipped a beer. “Lou, I still think maybe you should talk to him. Liam’s been checking in on him and he said he’s a wreck. Hasn’t showed up to school once or twice. Apparently Mrs. Sivan says he’s ‘sick.’”

“He cheated Niall,” I said, bringing the cigarette to my lips.

“Did he Louis? I mean you walked in on Grimshaw, but it’s Grimshaw. And Marcel did apparently tell you he tried to push Grimmy away. Honestly, all things aside, does nerd arse Marcel look like he would cheat?”

I frowned and took that into consideration. It _was_ odd to think Marcel, who was afraid of almost everyone, would cheat, especially with Grimshaw.

 

            In the end I supposed it was all my fault. I grew the balls the tell people I preferred guys over cheerleaders, that I didn’t want any of the girls that threw themselves at me, that no one should be flirting with Marcel other than me. Niall shifted against the wall silently and sloshed around his bottle. I closed my eyes and inhaled, wondering how to fix what I’ve done. Would Marcel be so quick to forgive me? On the other hand, _he_ wasn’t one mad at me, he was probably scared off his bloody wits since I made such a fucking dramatic exit. Opening my eyes, I watched the smoke twist and curl, blending with the cold air from my breath.

 

“I ought to do something soon,” I said, eyes fixed on the fading smoke.

“Atta’ boy,” an Irish voice replied from the side.

* * *

 

            The stairs creaked and the same familiar black stripe on the brick column passed me by. Marcel had said Robin was spraying a car for a friend and Gemma wanted to play with the paint can, so she tried to do ‘graffiti’ and sprayed a black line on the brick. I chuckled to myself as I approached the wooden door. Zayn would have passed out looking at the line, he was a proper artist in everything you can imagine.

 

            I knocked on the door and stuffed my hands into my jacket pocket. It was one of my favourites for the winter; denim with fur dotted on the collar. Footsteps thudded closer till a woman opened the door. “Hi,” I said, clearing my throat. “I uhm, I’m a friend of Marcel’s… Just here to stop by.” She smiled and motioned for me to come in. “Course’ love. I’m Anne by the way, Marcey’s mum. I’m so glad he’s made a friend other than El and J. Go on up dear, he needs someone, especially with everything going on. Just shuck your shoes off, yeah?” I popped off my shoes and stepped in. “What? Why what’s going on?” She stopped and her eyes widened.

“I, ah… Uh… Right, maybe you should go and Marce will let you know. His information to share not mine dear.”

I nodded and went up the stairs where Anne directed me and found Marcel’s room.

            The door was ajar so I gently pushed it open and knocked with my knuckles. “Marcel?” I whispered. He lay, wrapped in a blanket, asleep, looking soft and peaceful, curls astray. On the nightstand next to his two orange bottles containing pills sat, one uncapped. I quietly walked over and read the labels. One was _Prednisone_ and the other was a name I didn’t recognize. I knelt down and rubbed his shoulder. He was warm and I felt a rush of sadness. I missed Marcel and I had made a big deal out of nothing.

“Marcel? Baby can you wake up for a second? It’s Louis.”

He stirred a bit until his eyes fluttered open. He took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. “Louis?” He asked. I nodded and smiled. “Oh, god, Louis,” he began, “I’m so so sorry I hope you know I didn’t cheat I swear! Nick just grabbed me and I didn’t know what to do he’s—”

“Marcel,” I stopped him. “It’s okay, really. It was my fault.” I chuckled and pecked his cheek. “I was so dramatic. I should have known you’re not the type to lie, shoulda’ talked it out with you love.” He shrugged and smiled. “’S alright Lou, let’s just forget it.” I smiled and nodded. “All honestly now M, and you and I. Speaking of…”

I took a deep breath.

“I think I’m ready.”

 

            Marcel looked at my confusedly. “Ready for what- _oh…_ ” He beamed and sat up, coughing a bit. “Wow! Are you sure Lou? I don’t want to be pressuring you, I know this is a big thing but,” he stopped. “I’m proud of you.” I smiled even wider, if that was even possible and played with a frayed edge of his blanket. “I’m positive. I’m tired of everyone chatting you up and not knowing you’re mine. And I shouldn’t be ashamed of who I am.” Marcel laughed in delight and untangled himself from the sheets, standing up. His eyes leveled mine and he hugged me, warm and soft. I felt a warm bubbly feeling inside.

 

I felt _happy_.

 

            “Hey,” I held onto his hands and bumped his nose with mine. “You’re as tall as me.” He grinned and nodded. I mock-pouted. “Not for long though. You know the doctors say I’m a fast grower, I’m gonna be taller than you soon.” Marcel smirked and rested his forehead against mine, playing with my fingers.

“Yeah right,” he smirked, “I’m going to end like a tree. You’ll have to get on your tip-toes to kiss me.”

“Ha!” I scoffed, “and he speaks lies!” He threw his head back and laughed.

“Heyyy,” I pecked him on the lips. “How ‘bout a little gamble?”

“I’m listening.”

“Who ever gets taller than the other has to buy the other person dinner.”

Marcel giggled and nodded. “Alright, sounds good. It’s a bet.”

“It’s a _gamble_ ,” I corrected. I winked and he laughed again, kissing me.

* * *

 

            “Marcel?” I asked. We were both sitting on his bed. His head lay on my chest as he sat against me, eyes closed as I played with his hair. “Hm?” He responded. “Your mum was mentioning something going on, and you needed friends to help you through it or ‘summat. Do those pills have anything to do with that?” I felt him shrug. “No not really,” he mumbled. “They’re just anti-inflammatories. My lungs are a bit inflamed so air can’t get in and out too much. I’ll be alright though.” Something about his tone was off but I knew that was all he wanted to say, so I let it slip for the time being. We spent the rest of the evening sitting and telling stories and little things to each other, getting know each other better. I found myself falling deeper and deeper for Marcel, and regardless as to if he felt the same way… Well, I knew I was in too deep to get out.


	15. Chapter Fifteen: Three Whispers

**_One Month Later*_ **

****

            It was a month after I came out. A nearly a month and a half since Marcel and I got together and a month of smooth sailing. When I came out at school, it was a shock, but no one bullied me up for it, and Nick Grimshaw- all too surprisingly- stayed out of the way. It was simple really. I waltzed up the baron stairs, hands intertwined with Marcel’s and snogged him right and square before class. A few days of gossip, and that was that. Liam had found himself a girlfriend- that Sophia Stevens who he did the music project with. Zayn and Perrie Edwards were somewhat forming, but like all good things, it would take some time. Niall had his eye out but said he had ‘a lady’ outside of school, but gave no further information. And for Stan, well, Stan was single. That simple.

 

            Marcel and I went on dates, we met each other’s families and they met each other and our families had became very close with one another. My sisters _loved_ Marcel to death, in fact, Lottie even had a crush on him. Gemma grew on me, and we would talk about embarrassing Marcel-Stories with Anne sometimes, just to get on his nerves.

 

            We’d sit in the living room with mugs of hot chocolate and watch all kinds of films, huddled against each other despite the warmth of the house. There was a day we sat on the floor at my house and the twins were curled up in Marcel’s lap, fast asleep, when I told him we were going to go on a real date the next week.

 

 

            “Marcel, honey, Louis’ waiting? Are you ready?” Anne knocked on the door of Marcel’s bedroom as a tapped my foot patiently. “Sorry, love, he’s taking a bit long. His pills slow him down.” I nodded. Lately Marcel’s lungs had been giving way. He could still walk and talk and live his life, we was just a bit slow, and had to make sure he didn’t move around too much. I couldn’t smoke around him anymore, not that I minded. Anne left and I slowly opened the door. There, in a pile of shirts, sat Marcel shirtless in crisp black skinny jeans. “Mar?” I asked. “What’s wrong?” He sat and stared at the walls dazed.

“I can’t decide Lou.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “Decide on what?”

“What shirt to wear.”

I bubbled out a laugh. “Really, it’s not a big deal. You have such nice clothes just pick something. It’s a date, not the GQ Fashion Carpet.”

“But I want it to be perfect,” he pouted. “You look perfect, how come I can’t?”

 

            I sighed and sat down next to him, leaning back on my arms. “You wanna know what you should wear if you want this to be perfect?” I murmured, kissing his cheek. “Hm?” He responded, eyes closed. “Nothing,” I said. “Let’s just go like that, and then everyone can see what they’re missing, because you’re _mine_.” His eyes opened and he rolled them, groaning. “ _Louis_ , that is _not_ helping, it’s just making me hard.” I choked, and did he really say that? He stared at me innocently and licked his lips. “Marcel,” I warned. He grinned cheeky and pretty and beautiful just like he is because he’s _Marcel_. I breathed in and leaned over, kissing him slow and nice before swinging my legs over to straddle him.

 

            He held onto my hips and pushed me closer to him, and I could feel his skin burning through my clothes. “More,” he whispered and I brought a hand to his curls, tangling my fingers and pulling. “Mar—”

“Boys?” A voice called from the door.

 

            In a second I scrambled off Marcel and pretended to search through the pile of shirts and sweaters when Anne cracked the door open. “Marcel, have you not picked out what you’re ought’ to wear yet? And oh look, you’re having bloody Louis search through your mess for you, pick that up right now you dollup! Actually wait,” She checked her watch. “Marcel, you’re going to be late, Louis made reservations for eight, it’s nearly seven-thirty. Just bloody pick something.”

 

            She left the room and Marcel burst out laughing. “That wasn’t funny!” I cried. I felt heat rise to my cheeks as I got off my hands and knees. “Alright you tosser, pick a shirt.” He felt back onto the floor and sighed dramatically. “I can’t!” I stared at him incredulously and picked a blue button down up. He looked up and shook his head. “Doesn’t go with the jeans, and these are my favourite jeans.”

“Black goes with everything,” I muttered.

“Well, certainly not _that_ ,” he pointed.

“How about this?” I said, lifting a silk beige and black shirt. He gasped. “ _Absolutely not_ Louis!” I rolled my eyes and picked up a black shirt with silver lines squiggled across it.

“Oh, yes,” he exclaimed. “That one’s me favourite! I could wear it everyday!”

 

            It was matte black with silver curvy lines, looking like disconnected jigsaw puzzle pieces. It was a relatively classy shirt. “Good.” I said. “Put it on, love, I’m heading downstairs.” He pecked me on the cheek and I stood up and left the room.

 

            “Okay, I’m ready let’s go!” The boy with curls came thudding down the stairs in black shoes and that black shirt. “Did you take you’re pills love?” Anne asked, pecking him on the cheek. “Yes mum,” Marcel dragged. “Alright. Louis,” she turned to me. “You know I love you, but Marcel’s got to be back by eleven-thirty, not even a minute later you understand? If he’s any later there will be consequences.”

“Yes, Anne, I understand,” I laughed, but I knew she was rather serious. She smiled and pecked my cheek as well. “Now hurry! I don’t want you lot to miss your reservation, so don’t come back if you do.” She laughed and pushed us out the door, Marcel nearly stumbling on the way.

“Well,” I said.

“Well,” he agreed.

“Let’s go, then you stump,” I grabbed his hand and opened the car door for him, then slid into the driver’s seat.

 

            “Then where to, Columbus?” He asked me. Chuckling softly I shifted the gear and began to head off. “ _Blue Door_ ,” I said. He gasped, “Louis, that’s literally one of the most expensive restaurants out there.” I scoffed. “Well, Styles, I like to impress on a first date.” He tipped his head back and laughed, coughing a bit at the end. “Okay?” I asked. “Yeah, I’m good.”

 

            About fifteen minutes later we pulled into the parking lot of a beautifully elegant glass building with a sky-blue wooden door. “Ladies first,” I bowed, opening the door for him. Rolling his eyes he shoved me on his way in. “Rude,” I chuckled.

 

            An oak desk stood with a woman behind it named Ella. “Hi,” greeted. “I have a reservation for eight?” She checked her computer and smiled. “Ah, yes, the Tomlinsons. I’ve got the perfect spot reserved for you. One of the best in the house.” I thanked her and pulled Marcel along. “The Tomlinsons huh?” He smirked. I blushed and squeezed his hand. “Shut up.”

 

            We got a table for two beautifully lit by star-lights and a candle. There were floor-to-ceiling windows that gave a few of a pretty river, dotted with the light from passing boats. Taking a look at the menu, Marcel spoke: “Everything looks so good here. I’m not sure what to get. It says everything is in large portions, Lou, how ‘bout we get something and share it yeah?” I nodded and skimmed through all the mouth-watering items.

“How about…” I closed my eyes and placed my finger in a random spot. “Stuffed chicken wrapped in Parma Ham?”

 

 

            The night went by flawlessly. I tried my best to ignore the bubbles of happiness and the butterflies that fluttered in my stomach every time Marcel spoke or took my hand in his own on the table. By the time dinner was done, we were full and happy, but it was only nine-thirty. “Technically I don’t _have_ to be home right now,” Marcel said, hand intertwined with mine. He was wrapped in a scarf of mine, wearing his pea-coat, and me in my denim as we walked along the path next to the river. “Oh?” I questioned playfully. “Then where would you like to go?”

“How about…” He pretended to ponder in thought. “A diner! Proper old-fashioned diner. We’ve got a couple ‘round here I know of.” Nodding, I pulled him in the direction of my car. “Alright, then let’s go.”

 

           

            _Nifty Fifties_ was the Diner’s name. It was nice, proper classic-American style. Old cheery music played in the background and booths were lined in pastel pink leather, the floors were checkered black-and-white and there was a large jukebox against the wall. We sat down and Marcel sighed. “I just realized we have nothing to do here. We just ate and I’m full.” Shrugging, I took a menu from the slot on the wall. “Actually, I might grab a rootbeer float.” Marcel’s eyes widened. “Oh, I love those. Suppose I will too!” Smiling, I walked over to the counter and ordered out drinks. Behind me, a familiar tune sang out.

“Louis! They _Runaway_ by Ed Sheeran!” Laughing, I watched as the jukebox glowed different colours. “Let’s dance,” Marcel grabbed my hand. We were the only ones there other than the employees, so I didn’t mind flaunting my stumbles and horrific turns.

 

            Gladly excepting, we danced, and whirled each other around and sang out loud; laughing and cheering and kissing here and there. Some of the waitresses laughed along and some sang with us. Everything seemed bright and I felt as if nothing could bring me down, being here with Marcel. After the song ended, we were breathing heavy, Marcel more than I, and we walked towards our table when Marcel stumbled and tripped. I grabbed his arms and caught him in time, and he burst out laughing. Panting, I laughed too, “oh my god Marcel, I love you,” I breathed, and didn’t even notice what I had said till I said it.

 

            He froze. Eyes wide open, lips slightly parted. A few seconds went by and I began to feel sick in my stomach. He hadn’t said anything back, and fuck, why did I have to ruin _everything_ good I had going on? I followed him as he quietly walked to our booth. My ears began to ring and the entire diner felt eerily quiet. Marcel leaned in slowly and whispered, “Hey Louis, can I tell you a secret?”

I looked at him curiously and nodded, “what is it?”

He leaned in closer and dropped his voice to a quiet murmur.

 

“ _I love you too_.”


	16. Chapter Sixteen: Pre-C Stars

I dropped Marcel off right before curfew. Pecking him on the lips, I watched him bound up the stairs happily. Shaking my head, I smiled and drove off. I decided, while driving under the shining stars, that I never wanted to live another day without him. If there was one thing, one person, I couldn’t live without, it would be Marcel Styles.

+

            I woke up the next morning determined. I was going to be out, I _needed_ to be out. After Marcel decided to start dressing like a normal person, he got downright _hot_. Everyone was into him even though they knew he was gay. I couldn’t go around pretending like I didn’t care anymore; like it didn’t matter. He was mine and I was his.

 

            So I woke up in the morning and threw on my vans and snapback, without ripped skinny jeans and a sweatshirt. Mum said I looked like a fuckboy, which had me running up to change my sweatshirt to a t-shirt, even though it was November.

+

            As I stepped out of my car I caught a hint of Marcel’s unhealthily tight jeans and converse. “Marcel,” I whispered. He whipped around and walked towards me. “Louis!” He exclaimed, hugging me. Realizing what he had done he pulled back and looked around nervously. “Oh, uhm, sorry. What are you doing?”

“I’m coming out Marce,” I stated.

“Oh,” Marcel’s eyes widened. “How, uh, how are you going to do it?”

I smirked and nudged his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, I’ve got it. Just do me favour.”

Marcel nodded. “Yes love, anything.”

“Don’t walk next to me or anything into school alright? Just wait at your locker, I’ll come in behind you. Wait for me.”

Confused, Marcel nodded and walked off up the steps and through the school door. I walked back to lock my car and followed his suit after about a minute. As I walked through the school doors, a few eyes landed on me but I paid no mind. I heard a girl whisper to her friends, “didn’t he go out to dinner with _Marcel_?” And another go: “No way Louis’ not gay.”

 

            Treading quickly towards Marcel who was waiting at his locker. He turned slightly and saw me, confusion still apparent on his face. “Oh Louis—” He began but I cut him off. Standing over him, I slammed him into the lockers and crashed my lips onto his. He froze at first but realized what I was doing and relaxed into the kiss. Swiping my tongue over his lower lip, he opened his mouth for entrance and I grabbed onto his hair, tugging and pulling as he groaned, hands on my waist. Slipping down, I attached my lips onto his neck, sucking and biting, until Marcel began to push a little to remind me we were still at school. Breathing heavily, I pulled back and wrapped my arm around his waist, holding him protectively. There were stairs and gasps and ‘what the fuck’s but I ignored them. “That’s one way to do it,” Marcel mumbled. Kissing above his ear, I whispered, “let’s go love” and pulled him away.

            The next few days weren’t eventful at the least until the end of the next week. The excitement over my outburst had blown over in a matter of a few days. The beginning of November turned to the end, and Winter holiday was approaching. I had no plans and neither did Marcel, so we had hoped on spending as much time with each other as possible.

 

            The next Friday, a week before Holidays, I got a call from Anne, Marcel’s mum. It was one in the morning and I was just about to fall asleep. My eyes felt heavy and my mind began to go dark. There was a faint buzzing noise, and I was too far in to think anything of it, till it kept going and going and my eyes snapped open in frustration. Seeing the caller ID as Anne, I picked it up curiously.

“Hello?” I answered groggily.

“Louis,” Anne sighed in relief. Her voice was thick with emotion. “Oh god, Louis, oh god,”

I woke up a little more and sat up. “Anne? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Marcel,” she broke down, “It’s happened, I thought he had more time, I thought…”  
“What?” I asked, frozen.

“He told you didn’t he?”  
“Told me what?”

She cried right into the receiver and cursed. “Marcel’s in the hospital, he- he’s had some lung problems and—” She broke off but I couldn’t help but rush her.

“What? Anne what?”

“Marcel has Lung Cancer, Louis.”

 


	17. Chapter Seventeen: The C-Constellation

I rushed to the hospital, heart pounding out of my chest. Tears once again formed in my eyes and I kept talking to myself like a madman, “ _No, no, no, no_.”

 

            I’d ignored my mum’s worried face and angry calls as I let out a muffled sob when I put down the phone, running out the door with nothing but my car keys and mobile. When I arrived at the hospital, I parked and ran inside, breathing heavily. “I need to see a patient, Marcel Styles?” I asked the receptionist as I gasped for air. She wore cotton scrubs, white printed with blue blocks.

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry but he’s in the emergency room. They’re moving him to the cancer ward in a few minutes. Right now it’s family only.” My heart dropped as my pleas in the car came unanswered.

“I _am_ family,” I growled through gritted teeth, trying not to fall to the ground. She clicked some more and typed furiously, furrowing her eyebrows. “No, I’m sorry, he came with his family already.” I was about to cuss her out, telling her I needed to see my fucking boyfriend when a familiar voice came.

 

            “Louis?” I turned around and saw Anne, looking like a mess. Her eyes were sunken in and bloodshot, red from crying. Black makeup was smeared across her cheeks and her hair was a mess. I walked towards her and welcomed her outstretched arms. “It’s going to be okay,” I thought I heard her whisper. Was it really going to be okay? Was it?

 

            “Come on love, let’s go. If there’s anyone he needs right now, it’s you.” She began to lead me down the hall when the receptionist interrupted. “Ma’am, it’s family only, you can’t go in, and neither can he.”

 _Did she not see Anne coming out from the hall? Obviously she’s family then_ , I thought.

Her eyes narrowed and her voice was venomous. I’d never seen her this angry, or anyone, really.

“I am the _mother_ of the patient, and I will do what I please. This is his boyfriend and if I, the _mother_ , of the patient allow it, then he will come. Do I have to repeat myself?” And if looks could kill, the receptionist would bloody dead, sprawled on the floor.

 

            The receptionist shook her head, trying to look unaffected by Anne’s poison, but failing. She turned her attention back to her computer, cheeks red, and Anne pulled me down the hall. “They’re moving his to the cancer ward now,” her voice was hoarse. We walked into an elevator and waited as an older man in a wheelchair entered. “What level?” I asked, looking at him. “Eight,” he said. I looked at Anne and she leaned against the back of the elevator, eyes closed. “Same,” she sighed. I pushed the button and moved back to join her and give the old man more room.

 

            As the doors opened, the man rolled out, coughing slightly, wrinkled hands red from pushing the wheels of his chair. We rushed out and turned right, walking about five minutes till we reached the end of the hall, where it turned right again. Anne grabbed my hand, taking me to the last room before the turn and the left. She quietly opened the door and brought me into the room. It smelled of sadness and sterile, white floor and white walls. Equipment with digital buttons and beeping noises were sprawled everywhere. There, on the white bed, was Marcel.

 

            He was pale, eyes rimmed red, arms looking frail. His chest moved up and down slowly. Too slow. An oxygen mask covered his face and multiple wires and tubes connecting to his arms and skin. He lay limp, and this wasn’t the Marcel I was used to. He wasn’t bursting with light, sharing his ridiculous nerd-jokes and laughing at my horrible insults. This was the Marcel who had sickness blanketing him from head to toe. This was a frail, small Marcel, who looked like a little boy- tired of battling the world.

 

            “He knew it was coming,” Anne said quietly, sitting on the small sofa across the room. She looked sadly at her son, eyes becoming glossy. “I told him we could stop it, but he knew we couldn’t, he’s a smart boy. His grandfather died from it too. I guess it skips a generation.” Her voice broke at the end and my heart clenched on the word ‘ _died_.’ Marcel wasn’t going to die. It wasn’t the end of the world. If he left me, if he died, it would be the end of _my_ world.

 

            “He’s strong Anne. He just needs us, we’ll help him beat it. He’s strong.” I felt as if I was trying to reason with myself more than Anne, but I had to be strong for her; for him. Moving to sit next to her, I placed my hands on my knees nervously. “Has he woken up at all?” I asked.

“Oh yes,” said Anne. Her voice was grim. “He keeps fluttering awake, in and out. They’ve gotten the extra fluid out of his lungs. Once his breathing steadies, he’ll be awake.”

 

I wondered when that would happen.

“He should be waking up soon, for a while this time,” She said, answering my thoughts. I nodded, mind spinning from the series of events. I looked around and noticed the absence of someone who should have been in the room by Marcel’s side.

“Where’s Gemma?” I asked. Anne stood up. “She’s actually in Manchester, touring Universities. I haven’t told her yet. I will tomorrow.” She checked the clock ticking on the wall. It showed two-thirty in the morning. “Well, I mean later on in the day,” she sighed.

 

            “Louis, I’m going to run down to the cafeteria and grab something to eat quickly maybe some coffee too. Can you stay here? With him? In case he…”

“Yeah, yeah of course,” I said. Anne nodded.

“Would you like anything?” I was about to refuse when my eyes began to feel heavy.

“Actually, uhm, a coffee if that’s alright.”

“Of course love,” and she exited the room.

 

            There was a cushioned chair with curved wooden armrests next to the bed. I got up and sat in it, moving an inch from the bed.

“Marcel baby,” I murmured, soothingly. “Can you wake up for me?” I placed my hand in Marcel’s, tangling our fingers together. His hand was cold as ice, and limp. I held out fingers together with my other hand, lifting myself off the chair to press a kiss to his forehead before sitting back down.

 

            “Marcel love,” I murmured again. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I love you, and you’re strong. I love my strong Marcel. It’s going to be okay. Okay? I love you.” I realized I was actually reassuring myself, but I squeezed his fingers softly.

“You’re going to make it through this, no, _we’re_ going to make it.” I said, and obviously, no reply came.

“I love you Marcel,” I said again. “I love you so much, my strong, strong Marcel. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I love you. You’re the stars in my sky, my sun, and without you my world will be dark forever. I won’t be able to survive. I love you.”

 

            I leaned in closer and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

“We’re going to fight this Marcel, I swear it. I’ll spend my last breath fighting this with you. We’re going to make it our alive. You’re going to make it our alive.”

 

I took a shaky breath as a tear rolled down my face.

“I promise.”


End file.
